The Other Self
by Anonymousness
Summary: Sequel to Where Black Met Gold.
1. Act 1: Tabula Rasa

READ THIS FIRST:

THIS IS A SEQUEL to another fanfic. I highly doubt it will make much sense unless you have read Where Black Met Gold, in terms of context, and OCs, and OCs who aren't really OCs, people who are supposed to be dead, etc. If read independently, this story will probably seem like an alternate universe, when it actually takes place approximately thirty eight years after the end of the anime. Also, if you were to read this, it would ruin the suspense in WBMG. If you feel like reading one of my stories, check out Where Black Met Gold. If you already have, then please, do proceed, and hopefully, enjoy.

As with its predecessor, this story will eventually contain violence and adult content (at which time, the rating will change, circa chapter 3), though nothing extreme on either front, at least in my opinion. At this point, the only objectionable material will be some moderately strong language.

And now, my "legal" limerick…

I don't own the series, so please do not sue

It just gave me the urge to write something new

That disclaimer was quick, so now on with the fic,

And please don't forget to review!

* * *

At first she couldn't even open her eyes; everything was so bright. It was nearly a minute before she could even managed a squint. She instinctively brought her flattened palm up to her brows and finally forced her eyelids to open.

Her lips parted, breath stolen as she slowly turned in a full circle, taking in the entire view. The rag she'd been holding to her shoulders fluttered to the ground, forgotten.

It was all so big, everything went on forever, distant and yet all entirely within her reach. At her front were rolling green hills that looked perfect for running, to her left, gray rocky crags that looked perfect for climbing, behind her, a rundown castle that looked perfect for exploring, to her right, shady woods that looked perfect for wandering.

In that glorious moment, she wished that she could burst into a thousand pieces, so she could be everywhere, to touch and taste and smell everything all at once.

Her feet carried her across the tawny-colored cobblestones, until she reached the border where cold stone ended and lush green began.

"Teeheehee," she giggled nervously.

She fidgeted with a lock of ratted hair while she looked down, as if gauge the drop of a cliff, extending one foot, toes tentatively brushing the grass as if testing the temperature of a bath.

The corners of her lips curled in a smile, still parted in an expression of awe as she stepped forward onto the green, looking down at her feet, rapidly stepping in place in an odd sort of dance, the unkempt, supple blades tickling between her toes.

Without warning, that fascinating sight went out of focus; she trembled as she sank down to her knees.

She knew her body well enough to realize what that meant.

_Thirsty_.

She found herself walking toward the scent of food straightaway, down the rounded face of an emerald hill, bringing her into view of yet another castle. For a moment, she wondered if she'd doubled back to where she'd started.

But no, this one looked different, it didn't seem rundown or deserted.

Her head snapped to the side like a jittery bird, the sound of something breaking catching her attention.

A gray-haired, middle-aged woman stood gawking at her, dressed in a long black gown and neat white apron, an upended tray and mound of shattered china at her feet.

"Where are your clothes?!"

It was only then that she realized she was completely naked.

The lady grabbed her by the arm, pulling her into a nearby door.

"Mademoiselle, your practical jokes are getting entirely out of hand," the lady lectured dragging her through the high-ceilinged halls too fast for her to get a good look at them, "Someone could have seen you! I have half a mind to box your ears! My word, and on the day of the master's party, his guests could have seen you! Where is Haji? Doesn't he usually keep you out of trouble? I should box his ears too!" her voice lowered to a faint mutter, clearly only intended for herself. "I'll bet _he_ knows where your clothes are, I'll bet he was the one who took them off."

The gray-haired lady threw open a large, polished oak door, yanking her into a comparatively small room.

She examined her surroundings once more. To the right was a generously proportioned bed, adorned with red damask curtains, to the left, a single fresh pink rose sat atop a elegantly carved chest of drawers, and the walls were decorated with almost as many paintings as would fit on them, like a teenager's wall, full of posters.

It looked like the set of a historical movie; the only light came from the waning sunlight through the lace draped windows and a brass candelabra burning on the bedside table - no sign of any modern amenities at all.

"Now what on earth were you thinking? What will the master say when I tell him that Saya was wandering the grounds, naked as the day she was born?!"

"Saya?"

"Yes, Saya!" the woman snapped. "My word!"

"I'm – I'm Diva."

The lady's eyes narrowed. "Very funny. Your singing isn't _that_ pretty," she groaned sarcastically.

The gray-haired lady stared at her for a few seconds; something seemed to don on her.

"Mademoiselle, your eyes – they've turned blue," she stammered.

That statement seemed a little odd to her.

"Blue?"

"Yes, look!" the woman gestured to the mirror on the wall.

"Saya!" she called out giddily at the reflection, approaching the glass, poking it several times, then pulling it from the wall to peek behind it, her face with a rather puzzled expression as she patted the back of the mirror.

"Mademoiselle," the woman was starting to sound less annoyed than concerned, "- are you feeling alright?"

She didn't quite know how to answer that question, the mirror fell from her hands, shattering on the floor.

The lady swept her hand across her forehead. "You don't feel feverish, but then again – well, we must get you decent, the master will know what to do." The lady opened a nearby drawer, pulling out a bundle of white cloth.

"We'll forget about your party dress for now, let's get you into your dressing gown, now – there, much better. Now then, I'll go get the master, you just lie down and rest, I'll be right back."

The lady disappeared, leaving her alone.

Ignoring the order to get in bed, she began to pace about the enormous room, poking, caressing, sniffing, tasting every object she came across, eventually coming to the candelabra.

She plucked one of the candles from its cup, holding it up in front of her face, the flame immediately burning the tip of her nose. The candle was tossed to the ground in disgust, rolling a few inches across the floor until it was stopped by one of the bed feet.

She didn't feel even the slightest tinge of guilt or fear as she watched the golden flames climb up the bed curtains, observing for nearly a minute before losing interest and making her way over to a window and the exciting sounds coming from beyond it.

Trying to lean out for a look, she lightly bumped her head on the glass, gazing down at a small crowd of people, again in the sort of suits and gowns one would see in a period piece or history book.

Without hesitating, she smashed the glass of the window, wounds from the move closing up before her feet hit the ground amongst the crowd of guests.

"Diva!"

It didn't sound quite right, the inflection of her name was less surprised and terrified than embarrassed, whispered through gritted teeth and frowning lips.

She snorted as she came to, eyes opening to the fake wood laminate of a school desk.

"Hmm?!"

"Class is over, jackass."

Diva turned to see the person sitting next to her, somewhere between girl and young woman, sandy-beige skin and short dark brown hair streaked with bleach-blonde, eyes lined in black. She _looked_ like the sort of girl who would knowingly be friends with a "vampire_,"_ or rather, be relatively unphased when her friend told her two years earlier. Diva's friend was known as "Max."

The two girls walked out the door and onto the pavement of the outdoor campus, dressed identically not only to each other, but to every other girl there, black straight-legged slacks, loose white blouse and golden-orange tie partially obscured by a black waistcoat that was obviously a good bit tighter than what the school's administration would have preferred. By 2044, the style was antiquated enough to be utilized as a school uniform.

"Diva, you are hopeless," the girl grumbled through a suppressed smile, "I think Madame McGill just lets you sleep in class because at least then you aren't bugging me."

"I can't help it, it's just so boring."

"Why do you take it, then?"

"Keeps my grades from going completely to shit," Diva answered casually.

"Where'd you learn French anyway?"

"Hell if I know." She turned to her friend with a grin. "You wanna know something totally funny?"

"What?"

"The dream I had, just now, I think it was in French."

The two girls laughed.

"What was it about?"

"I dunno, I guess I already forgot most of it, you know how dreams are. I think it was just one of those _suddenly realize that you're butt-naked dreams_."

They laughed again. The subject now seemed exhausted, so it was changed.

"So, it's almost winter break. You have anything fun planned?"

Diva gave a deep sigh not of relief, as such a statement should have elicited, but of frustration.

"Jeez, get a grip, Diva! How is vacation depressing?"

Diva stopped in her tracks and leaned back amongst some nearby lockers, head clinking harshly against one of the thin steel doors.

"It's just that – my parents are going out of town, and I'm a million percent sure that they're going to Okinawa!"

"Isn't that where your _long-lost_ sister lives?"

"Yeah! I mean they've both gone there before, but never both of them at the same time – and I have to stay home!"

"So wait, your parents are going to spend the holidays with your sister – and you're not invited?"

"I don't get it!" Diva exclaimed, "Why don't they want me to see her?! Why doesn't she want to see me?! I mean, I know she's busy with her new husband and her kids but she can't even take the time to acknowledge my existence?! I haven't heard from her even once in the past five years."

"Since you lost your memories, huh?"

"I don't care if she has freakin' octuplets, you'd think she could at least find time to email me or something! And anyways, my freakin' parents won't let me contact her first, they say it would be rude or something, and won't give me the number. What the hell is going on?!"

In truth, Diva's resurrection was still a secret, carefully guarded by her mother and stepfather. At this time, Saya had absolutely no idea that her twin arch-nemesis was now living as a relatively normal high schooler a few thousand miles away.

Diva's friend tilted her head, and gazed thoughtfully at the overhang. "Don't take this the wrong way but – has it occurred to you that – well, maybe your sister might be a – you know, cold-hearted bitch."

Diva laughed uncomfortably. "Oh, like my evil twin or something? – No, I don't think that's it, I think if she was a cold-hearted bitch, then she wouldn't be so devoted to her husband and kids, you know?"

"Well, do you think that – maybe she's holding a grudge against you for something that happened before your amnesia?"

"Eureka! I can't think of any other explanation!" Her voice lowered. "But that just brings up a whole new question – what is it that I did, that was so bad that she still won't talk to me even after thirty-eight years and I've forgotten all about it?!"

"How do you stand it?" Her friend asked sympathetically. "How can you stand not knowing anything about your past? I mean, your parents must know something, if I was you, I'd like – go on a hunger strike until they told me everything."

Diva's eyes shifted to the lower left. "I know, I know. Pretty much all they've told me is that there's a bunch of stuff I'm better off not knowing."

"Still! Whatever it is, I can't imagine that it's worse than _not_ knowing."

"Yeah, but – I know that I _should_ want to know, that it should be driving me crazy that they won't tell me, and it is… " She twirled a strand of hair nervously around her finger. "But at the same time – I have this feeling that – well, what if they're right? What if it's something really, really horrible, something I couldn't handle?"

"I'm sure it's not _that_ bad."

Diva directed a slightly teary glance at her friend, a look that was half _thank you_, and half _please shut up_.

"I just - want to have a sister."

Diva's head drooped forward, stray locks of hair obscuring the liquid pooling in the corner of her eyes.

Her friend leaned to the side, laying her head on Diva's shoulder.

"I'll be your sister," Max offered.

Diva smiled. "I know, I know… but… I want my – my – real sister, my _blood_ sister. I mean, aren't twins supposed to have some deep, mystical connection?"

Her friend snapped up to a sitting position, as if a light bulb had just lit up over her head. "Diva, look at it this way – your parents are going out of town - hello?! Party!"

"Negative," Diva grumbled. "My parents are having someone come over and housesit, some _cousin_ that I've never even met, my dad knows him." She flashed a slight smile. "On the ever-so-slightly brighter side, my dad did mention that he's kinda cute – and my dad's actually a surprisingly good judge."

"Hmm, well, what good will it do you if he's cute? He's your cousin? Gross."

"Well, not my real cousin, you know how weird my family is about that sort of thing."

"Not your real cousin?" The girl grinned. "Good, then your _babies_ won't be inbred abominations."

Someone else joined the conversation before Diva could react.

"Hey."

"Hi, Wes," the two girls said casually.

"So, who's having who's baby?" the mousy-haired young man asked.

Diva grinned mischievously. "Max's having _your_ baby, Wes. You see, her sexual fantasies about you have gotten so vivid that she's been – um, psychically impregnated by you, or something."

The young man laughed, and Max elbowed Diva in the ribs a little harder than could be called playful.

The moment was diffused by a loud honk from the parking lot across the lawn.

"Yoohoo! Precious!"

Diva's head sunk down toward her collar.

A familiar car was parked up against the curb, and her was dad waving a two-piece sports uniform out the driver-side window, her mother seated beside him.

"Look what I found in the dryer!"

"Diva, is it just me, or is your dad a little – weird?" the young man asked in a whisper.

"No, a lot weird," she muttered, shuffling toward the car.

Her dad leaned out the window. "Now you would have looked pretty funny going to practice, naked."

She reached for the bundle, but it was snatched away before she could grasp it.

"Ah ah ah, now what do we say, precious?"

"Thanks mom, thanks dad," she mumbled, swiping the bundle from his hand, and proceeding on to her destination, pretending to ignore them.

Her parents, the ancient Queen now known as Yuki, and her ancient Chevalier, now known as Freddie, drove off, the former turning to the latter with a smile. "_Two_ friends! She's doing so _well_! I'm so proud!"

"Me too, my love."

A few seconds passed. "She's totally _ready_."

"You mean to meet Saya?"

"Yeah."

"Hmm, I agree with you. Diva is ready, but -"

" - Saya might not be?" Yuki finished his statement. "Do you think she'll freak out when we tell her that Diva's alive?"

"It's more than just a possibility."

Yuki's brows fell. "But why? I mean, Diva's blood is inert now, and more importantly, she hasn't received the blood of her Chevalier, so, not only does she have no memory of her _wild-years_, but she has virtually no chiropteran powers. She's as harmless as a human."

"Yes, but you've seen how stubborn and irrational Saya can get."

"Yeah… Do you think she'll refuse to meet her?"

Freddie shrugged slightly, still driving. "I suppose we'll know soon enough. But, we've given Saya a few years to learn how to be a wife, and a few more to learn how to be a mother. It's about damn time she learned how to be a sister."

* * *

Please review! If it seems like people are interested in this story, then I promise I will see it through to the end.


	2. The Samurai Mom, part 1

This chapter contains some strong language.

And as before, a ... on a separate line denotes the beginning or end of a flashback.

* * *

"I have nothing more to say to you."

"Nor I to you."

Modified katana and straight-bladed cavalry saber flew toward one another, not so much by the will of the two queens, as the lifetime's worth of inertia that had set them on this collision course. Clang after clang after clang was emitted from the weapons, each a little different, a separate note on the same instrument.

It was exactly as she remembered it.

Saya was watching the scene unfold from the second row, witnessing this pivotal moment in her life from the third person, as if disembodied.

But a fleeting flash of lightning illuminated the duelists, the bright light showing that their features seemed more European, their hair not quite black.

_No_…

She let out a strange inhaled shriek and found herself tangled in pink flannel sheets, two little faces staring down at her curiously as she caught her breath.

Rosette and Lisette were perched on the bed at either side of their mother.

"Papa says wake you up," Rose tittered.

Saya made a noise somewhere between a sigh and a sob, seizing the two little girls in her arms, hugging them tightly.

"Ouw, mama! Too tight!"

Rose quickly wiggled out of her grasp, leaping down onto the floor and scampering off.

Lis remained on the bed, studying her mother's face. "Mama, why you have bad dreams?"

"I don't know, sweetheart," she lied. _I truly hope you never will either. _"Did you go potty this morning?"

The little girl shook her head.

"Then please go potty, let's try for no accidents today."

Lis scurried into the bathroom and Saya made her way over to the closet to dress.

Today was a special day – the first day of preschool for the girls. Saya considered wearing her festival-kimono; she'd seen other mothers do that on such occasions, but decided to save that for kindergarten. Instead she settled on a simple, ankle-length coral pink cotton dress, casual, but somehow decidedly maternal. She then reached up for the top shelf and pulled out a faux-rose-accented hat, not unlike one she'd worn over a century ago – apparently it had come back into fashion.

She briefly examined her reflection in the mirror to see if it had the desired effect – indeed, it did make her look older. Lately Saya's own mother had been urging her to outright change her face to something a little more mature, as her nieces had, all true chiropterans having the ability to manipulate their appearance, but it was a step that Saya was not yet ready to take. Still, in the back of her mind, Saya knew that her teenage appearance would someday warrant more than just casual curiosity, now that she was a mother. Someday, her children would grow to appear the same age as she.

Their home itself was described by realtors as "adorable," by friends as "cozy," and by herself as "snug." It was a high-density, condo-type home, two bedrooms, one tiny and one tinier, one bathroom all over a cramped kitchen/dining room and one central living room that was _almost_ big enough.

She descended the stairs to the tiny kitchen, Rose and Lis kneeling at the table, now just big enough to do so, while Haji stood by the stove, an apron tied over a black denim shirt, and a pair of dark gray khakis. The daily use of his tailcoat had been given up some years ago, after having being vomited or otherwise messed on one too many times. True, his suit had lived through harsher punishment, but when Saya suggested that it wasn't practical for his current role, they set out for something a little more informal.

A little more appropriate for a daddy.

And that's exactly what Haji was to Rose and Lis, in all ways except by blood.

"Good morning," he said over his shoulder, scraping the contents of a frying pan onto a trio of plates.

"Good morning." She placed a kiss on his cheek and sat down.

Haji was generally in charge of morning chores such as breakfast, as waking up early was not an issue for him. It had never occurred to Saya before the twins were born, but there were certain advantages to having an eternally-insomniac husband – she'd hardly ever been troubled with midnight feedings during her children's infancy, and each morning, when she woke, breakfast had been made, and the house was damn near spotless.

If she were to make a new friend, someone who didn't know about her past, someone who didn't know what she had to go through to get to this point, and the complications that still existed, they would probably have envied her _perfect_ life.

One final task was left before the meal was complete. Haji pulled a blood pack from a water-filled pot on the stove, dividing its contents between a pair of pink sippy-cups. He pushed back his sleeve and shook a few drops onto his wrist and then placed them before the two tiny Queens.

Transfusions had been deemed impractical for two perpetually squirmy three-year-olds.

"I gratefully receive!" they announced in unison with their mother.

That never failed to bring a smile to Haji's lips.

The two little girls immediately took to suckling at their sippy-cups, guzzling them down like chocolate milk, draining them in a matter of seconds. A small trickle of blood ran down both chins, a reminder of their true nature.

"More please!"

"Not until you've eaten some of your breakfast," Saya answered through a mouthful of food.

_They have to learn to like human food._

Breakfast was concluded with Haji running a spit-wetted handkerchief over the two girls' faces, removing any rice or blood still stuck to them.

These days, his trusty handkerchief generally wiped up more food and snot than blood and tears. And when those two familiar substances did come up, unlike in the past, the blood generally wasn't his, but as a moment ago, spilled medical blood, and the tears generally weren't Saya's, but the residue from some fleeting distress of her two daughters.

"Haji, could you dress them this morning, I want to make their lunches."

"Of course." Haji simultaneously lifted the two girls up, both instinctively straddling the side of his waist closest to them, clinging to an arm while they were toted up the narrow staircase.

"Do you have anything particular in mind?" Haji called down to her.

"Yes, their dresses are hanging up by the closet, I picked them out last night," she shouted back as she molded a few mounds of rice into blossom-shaped tidbits, each accented with a dash of sesame seeds and heart of plum.

An ornately decorated bento was, she had heard, a mark of a devoted mother.

Upstairs, Haji dutifully went about his task.

"Arms up."

The Queens did as they were told, holding their pose as their _papa _pulled a garment over each of their tiny frames.

The little pink dresses were identical in every way, a wide satin ribbon marking the girlishly high waistlines, skirts generously ruffled and trimmed with lace swag, the sort of outfit that wouldn't have looked out of place on a flower girl at a wedding, or with a pair of pink fairy wings at Halloween.

They had a closet full of similar garments; most had been outgrown before ever being worn.

Their biological father made it a point to send them a new outfit several times a year, always a frilly little dress, the sort of garment that would be quickly ruined if a child were left to their own devices for long while wearing it. The majority of the dresses were white, and the fact that there was obviously some symbolic reason for this was not lost on either Saya or Haji, though they both had different theories. Saya assumed that it must have been related to Solomon's own once-signature white suits; that he was trying to reinforce his thin, fraying bond with his natural daughters. Haji, on the other hand, was of the firm belief that it had more to do with Saya and that white gown he'd found her in several decades ago. Solomon had failed to acquire Saya as his living, breathing plaything, and was now subconsciously projecting some of his more innocent impulses toward Saya onto their daughters – a thought that Haji actually found more pitiable than creepy.

In reality, both theories were right.

It was no coincidence that Saya had picked out one of the few pink ones he had sent, pink being her own favorite color, and white having something of a mournful connotation.

A paperboard price tag fluttered to the floor as Haji straightened the ruffles of Lis' skirt. He flinched at the sight of the almost absurdly large number it bore.

Haji had noticed that the price tags were almost always still on when the dresses were given, and there was hardly a doubt in his mind that this breach of gift-giving protocol was no accident. He supposed that Solomon intended for those tags to fall under Saya's eyes, that they would remind her of his fabulous wealth, and the lifestyle that could have been hers if she had chosen differently five years ago, and how it contrasted to her current financial situation, no doubt also with the implication that his offer still stood.

Saya and Haji actually weren't doing _that_ badly, they scraped by just fine. They had, after much persuasion from various quarters, accepted a fairly modest stipend from the Red Shield, not out of necessity (or so they told themselves), but because everyone else did, and they weren't on active duty either. They had been urged to think of it as payment for services rendered, and salary for remaining on call, in the unlikely event that a new chiropteran threat emmerged.

Without the stipend, homeownership would have been completely out of their reach, it just barely covered the mortgage. Living expenses, food, bills and clothes, were all dependent on other income.

By that time, Haji had become, hands down, the best known and most sought-after cellist in Okinawa. Unfortunately, on such a small island, that wasn't saying too much. He played every event he could get his hands on, mostly top-brass functions on the base and at any and all Jahana syndicate-sponsored soirees, as well as a regular gig providing atmosphere at a local upscale restaurant.

Saya had also gained part-time employment as a kendo teacher, banking on the only marketable skill she had. Entering that field had been rather difficult at first, not just due to its traumatic ties to her past, but also because a petite young girl wasn't what most prospective students had in mind as an ideal sensei. However, after a few slow and trying years, fencing seemed to lose it's painful associations, and she had gained a decent professional niche, thanks in no small part to the very same characteristics which had initially hampered her career. Nowadays, martial arts enthusiasts flocked to see and study under that rare _girl prodigy_. But again, on a small island, that wasn't saying much.

All and all everything worked out well, they had enough money to live a comfortable, albeit frugal lifestyle, and their respective careers were highly conducive to child rearing, as Haji's gigs were in the evenings, and Saya's classes were in the mornings, so one of them was always free to look after the twins. Of course, Saya had cancelled her class for this particular morning.

The two little Queens flitted down the stairs and into the kitchen, clad in their new dresses, hair done into pigtails, fastened by a pair of enormous pink satin bows.

"You look very pretty, sweethearts."

The girls seemed impervious to the compliments, and simply began scampering about the kitchen in what appeared to be a game of tag.

"Are we ready to go?" Saya asked her husband, not looking away from Rose and Lis.

Haji didn't answer immediately, causing her to turn to him, wondering why he had hesitated over such a simple question.

"There was - something you wanted me to remind you to do once the girls were dressed, but before we left."

Saya thought to herself.

"Oh! I almost forgot, thank you Haji! Rose! Lis! Come here!"

Saya grabbed them both by the shoulders, arranging them so as they were standing right beside one another, as if preparing them for a formal photograph.

"Now wait right here, don't move."

But instead she pulled out her phone, and speed-dialed someone whom she knew would have a particular interest in the girls first day of school.

* * *

The New York City skyline was already starting to adopt its glittering, nighttime form. It wasn't even six yet, but night falls early in December.

The polluted air made the dusk eerily dazzling, the sun had already sunk out of view, turning the sky into a wide, hazy rainbow, shades of red and orange at the horizon, fading to sickly hues of yellow and green, then to lavender that got progressively darker until it was a deep, indigo blue.

It was all displayed in glorious panorama in Solomon's spacious top-floor corner-office.

He only glanced up for a moment, while contemplating the papers before him, and then, with a stroke of his pen, an entire division, and its employees, was eliminated. He had always thought trimming the fat to be a good strategy, and considering his history, laying people off didn't warrant so much as a ripple in his conscience.

_If I even have a conscience anymore._

He was distracted by the voices coming from the reception room adjacent to his office, more specifically, the sound of his name.

"Can you believe that he's thirty-eight?" he heard one of the new interns whisper to another.

_Only a bit more than a hundred years off, _Solomon thought.

"I know, seriously. I heard that it's plastic surgery."

"Oh, no no no, Sam in R&D said that it's some top secret wonder drug."

_Ah, good. That rumor is spreading just as I hoped. That should give me a few more years before I'll have to go through the hassle of doing away with my current "incarnation."_

"Hey, you know what's even weirder – I heard that he spends the night in his office, like, all the time. Whoever heard of a C.E.O. who does that?"

_Not all the time. I go home to shower and change my clothes almost every night… but then I do generally come right back here._

"Seriously? He sleeps in there?"

_Hah. If only I could…_

"No, that's the weirdest part, Tina told me that a security guard told her that he just sits at his desk – and works. All night."

_Keeps my mind occupied._

_Off her._

…_But when I go home to "relax" at my apartment, it's the exact opposite. It's been thirty-eight years, and she was only there for two days, her scent faded long ago, but somehow, the air is still laced with her presence. Her intoxicating, devastating presence._

"Wow, talk about your workaholic."

_What an apt analogy. _

_But it's exactly that, plus my years of experience, which has allowed me to build this company up even faster than Cinque Fleches, and this time, without Amshel's help. _

_Then again, my life wasn't as frustrating and meaningless then._

_That's not to say that it wasn't frustrating and meaningless, but that was nothing compared to now._

_I wanted so badly to feel something, even if it was only pain._

He laughed in spite of himself.

_I ended up getting more than I bargained for._

"Yeah, but how do you suppose he stays awake? Do you think -" an exaggerated sniffing noise could be heard, " – if you follow me."

"Oh, I see what you're saying – but I always had him figured as a prescription drug guy, as C.E.O., I'm sure he can take his pick – but you're right, he's definitely on something."

"He does seem kinda suspiciously _mellow_."

"Mr. Ross, Ms. Bryant," another voice joined the conversation, this one low and gravely, like that of a chain-smoking grandmother, "I've been working for Mr. Goldsmith for over four years, so let me give you a little well-meaning advice. Mr. Goldsmith _is_ a little bit _difficult to grasp_, but there's one thing that I have figured out – he has rather exceptional hearing." There was a pause. "So if you're smart, you won't gossip about him right in front of his office."

Solomon sighed. "Thank you, Tess," he muttered to himself.

Just then, he heard a noise from the vicinity of his pocket, and shot to his feet before he'd even consciously realized that it was his phone.

He knew that ringtone in just under two notes, a shrill rendition of Mozart's symphony number 41, Andante. That could mean only one caller.

He drew in a deep breath and cleared his throat before answering, making a somewhat successful effort not to sound _too_ excited to hear from her.

"Hello?"

"Hi."

He felt his heart clench at the sound of that voice.

"Saya, how are you?"

"Solomon, your phone, it has a video screen doesn't it? There's something I thought you'd like to see."

_Something I'd like to see?... Yourself in the nude? Haji's mutilated, blood-drained corpse?_

That thought produced a brief smirk, though not nearly as devilish as would have seemed appropriate along with such thoughts. There was a distinct element of self-loathing in it.

"Yes, yes," he answered promptly. "Just a moment." Solomon scrambled to unfold the screen, making sure to smooth back his hair before pointing the camera at himself.

And there, before his eyes was a truly delightful sight, though nothing like either of his subversive suppositions. It was two little girls, side by side, dressed in vaguely familiar, frilly pink dresses.

His smirk expanded into a wide smile, his eyes slightly lulled in an expression caught between pleased and pained.

Saya's voice came from beyond the screen. "Today's their first day of preschool."

"I see." He leaned toward the camera, as if bending over to speak to the children in person, his voice instinctively increasing in pitch. "It's your first day of school today, my angels?"

He briefly wondered if he was out of line for calling them _his_.

…

Dr. Silverstein presided over the birth, assisted by her two residents, Ruka and Akahana Miyagusuku.

Kai, Mao, David and Yuki all sat in the waiting room. Nathan, or Freddie as he was now known, was conspicuously absent, which struck Solomon as suspiciously out of character.

Haji stood dutifully beside the birthing-room door, no desperate pacing, no bitten nails, simply the far off stare he was known for.

Solomon sat nearby in the waiting room with the rest of the _secondary_ family. Even as he pretended to read a newspaper in his palm, it took every last ounce of his self-control not to burst into the delivery room and begin making frantic inquiries and orders under the pretense of having once been a doctor.

It would be one of the most trying nights of Solomon's life, and not just due to his concerns for the woman he still loved, and his children that she was giving birth to.

He hadn't been in the presence of the Red Shield clique for over a year, and now that Saya's pregnancy was generally known…

Anyone who knew anything about Chiropteran biology knew that there was no possible way that Haji was the father, and anyone who knew anything about Saya could tell you who the real father had to be.

The spectators even went so far as to whisper amongst themselves, and Solomon's chiropteran ears caught their caustic rhetorical questions and suppositions all too clearly.

"_Do you think Haji knows?"_

"_Maybe she's convinced him that they're his."_

"_How could he not know? The real question is why hasn't he killed Solomon?"_

"_Maybe he actually agreed to it?"_

"_Can you imagine how awkward that must have been?"_

"_How can the three of them even look at each other?"_

The situation seemed to stimulate the imagination of anyone who knew about it.

Mao even went so far as to ask "_Do you think all three of them were in bed together?"_

Solomon was half a hair away from standing indignantly, and explaining the truth of the situation to them, but absolute silence and secrecy had been one of the central tenants of the original arrangement with Saya.

Then there was the staring. If there was anything he hated, it was staring, and everyone in the room was guilty of stealing sidelong glances at him_. _The worst of them came from Kai, who's looks conveyed a surprisingly poignant element of genuine sympathy; he looked as if he would have literally provided Solomon with a shoulder to cry on if he had displayed even a single sign of needing one, which Solomon was taking a great deal of care not to do.

And all this while nervously awaiting some indication of how things were going in the other room, his eyes fixed on Haji. Solomon knew that as her blood-chevalier, Haji could innately sense many of her vital signs, making his facial expression, what little there was to be had, the next best thing to an ECG monitor. If Saya were in danger, he would certainly display some symptom of distress, wouldn't he?

Strangely, he would have been relieved to have heard the agonized screams that should accompany any childbirth, let alone one involving two fetuses that were already the size of three-month-olds.

But all that could be heard were the faint voices of Aka and Ruka, cheering her on, and Saya's occasional weak whimpers and sobs.

"_I can't – I can't -"_

"_Yes you can Saya – c'mon now!"_

"_I -"_

"_Yes you fucking can! Now you give those little punks hell!"_

"_Saya, we know you've been through worse than this!"_

Solomon glared at Haji. _You worthless bastard!_ _Why aren't you in there? Hold her hand! I swear, if you don't, I will! _

Haji had been raised in the nineteenth century, when it was inappropriate for a man to participate in childbirth, but his waiting outside had less to do with that than because of his many years at Saya's side, he knew that she preferred to face her battles alone, whenever possible.

The delivery room went silent, except for a crescendo of panting, building up to a deep, almost masculine full-throated cry, a sound entirely familiar to everyone in the waiting room, everyone who had witnessed Saya in battle, raising her sword, charging some hideous monster. That sound was accompanied by the muffled, but gut-wrenching sound of tearing flesh.

Moments after that loud cry ended, a new one began, faint and high-pitched, a wavering _waaaa,_ reminiscent of a lamb.

"Good! Good! One down, one to go!"

More panting, again building to a familiar bellow, this time less like she was preparing to attack a monster, than if she was struggling under its strength, perhaps straining to pull her sword from it's grip.

"C'mon!"

And the lamb's-bleet doubled, accompanied by nerve-wracking silence from their mother.

A terrifying suspicion came over Solomon's mind, and doubled with every passing second of quiet.

_God no – could she be –_

After all, his medical experience had been acquired over a hundred years ago, when death in childbirth had still been fairly common. Solomon's eyes remained locked on Haji, both dreading and expecting some telltale look of panic.

A hush fell over the room as the doors finally swung open, revealing Dr. Julia, her white coat slightly smeared with blood.

"She's alright, just fainted."

Just as the doctor finished her sentence, Aka and Ruka emerged, still in their teal blue, blood-spattered scrubs, masks wadded up under their chins, each cradling one of the planet's newest residents.

Solomon watched jealously as Aka immediately placed her charge in Haji's arms, but in an unexpected turn of events, Solomon found Ruka standing before him, presenting him with the other infant.

"Me?"

Ruka nodded.

He held the tiny creature as if it were a soap bubble that might be shattered with so much as a harsh breath, even though he knew perfectly well that the child was nigh indestructible.

This one was Rosette, he would later learn.

She seemed completely different from the newborns he had seen during his days as a physician. She was slightly larger than a human newborn, with two inches of damp black hair, noticeably thicker near her forehead. Most striking of all was the lucid awareness in her sea-blue eyes as she stared directly up at her father.

It was clear that she was no ordinary neonate.

"Twelve pounds, seven ounces," Ruka declared proudly.

After a few seconds, he gained the confidence to hold the child in the crook of one arm, freeing the other hand, allowing it to softly caress the cheek of his newborn daughter. Almost immediately, a hand emerged from the bundle of blankets and reached up for his. The tiny hand was far too small to grasp his palm, so instead, the miniature digits closed around his index finger, her eyes still focused on his face.

_How could I have made something so beautiful, so miraculous without even trying?_

Yuki peered over his shoulder.

"Alright, it's _obaachan's_ turn!" she demanded cheerfully.

He hesitated a moment before placing the infant in her arms, but the little fingers still clinched so firmly around his, that they had to be pried off, one by one, before the child's grandmother could fully take hold of her. Yuki immediately began to sing a familiar melody, attempting to soothe the infant's tearful outburst at the separation.

Solomon himself was inches away from a similar reaction; an unobtrusive tear was narrowly intercepted by his shirt sleeve.

In the background, he heard David whispering to someone.

"Well that settles it. They look just like him."

…

One of them nodded.

"Do you – do you remember who I am?"

He prepared himself for a blank look of confusion from both of the little girls.

"Sol-mo," Lis chirped.

His smile expanded to a degree rarely seen, wide enough to expose his slightly-elongated canines.

"Yes, Sol-mo." He always encouraged that infantile mispronunciation of his name, it was so excruciatingly cute.

Even though they knew Solomon, neither of the girls knew that he was in fact, their biological father. They were still young enough not to question why this ostensibly distant acquaintance of their parents took such a peculiar interest in them, and why their mother went so out of her way to encourage them to be friendly toward him.

"Do you like the dresses I bought for you?"

"They're our princess dresses," Rose answered.

Solomon laughed in delight. "Only because you're the ones wearing them."

He was proud of himself for coming up with that on the fly; in general, he had a hard time knowing what to say to his children. Still, this improvised turn of phrase was probably wasted on the little girls, but he pictured that off camera, Saya was swooning, and Haji was scoffing.

Silence followed, the girls were still too young to really carry on a conversation without an adult to lead them, and with every passing second, Solomon felt a greater and greater pressure to say something, the girls were getting visibly bored, and he imagined that their mother was on the point of deeming all this a waste of time, and hanging up.

For some reason, he preferred the idea of ending the conversation himself.

"Well then, if this is your first day of school then you probably don't have time to be talking to me. Have fun at school, and be sure to mind your teachers. Would you do that for me?"

The little girls nodded distractedly.

"Thank you - angels. Your – Sol-mo is proud of you."

The picture faded out.

"Saya, are you still there?"

"Yes."

"I really do appreciate you doing this."

"It's really no trouble. I just hope we're not disturbing you, it looks like you're at work."

"No no! I mean, yes, I am at work, but you're not disturbing me. Not at all. Nothing could ever be more important to me than – and you know that I always love hearing from you."

"Oh. That's – good."

There was a brief break.

"They really are amazing. They've grown so much since the last time I saw them."

At one time, shortly after the children had been born, Solomon had made it a point to be with them as much possible, spending at least half his time in Okinawa. But there had been a sharp change about two and a half years ago, after a phone call not too unlike this one.

…

It had been one day in March; Solomon had made a brief business-trip to Shanghai when he got that call.

"They said their first word! First Lis, then Rose a few minutes later!" Saya exclaimed ecstatically.

"That's wonderful!" he said enthusiastically. "What was the word?"

"_Papa_," Saya answered proudly. "I gotta go though, time to feed them. Just thought you'd like to know."

For the first few seconds after she hung up, he was quite pleased, not just at his offsprings' developmental milestone, but because Saya had sounded so happy, as a matter of fact, she was downright giddy, but he also indulged himself with the thought that since he had given her those children, he had also given her that happiness.

It actually took nearly a whole a minute for him to realize the significance of that first word.

_Papa._

_They most certainly didn't mean me._

Things changed after that, visits became less and less frequent until now, he scarcely saw them three times a year, his lingering paternal energies were allocated toward buying those dresses, and having a few of the girls' crayon drawings elegantly framed.

…

"Yes."

He smiled. "The sunlight really brings out the red tones of their hair." He paused. "I'm sure I never told you, but my mother was a redhead, and I was a bit of a strawberry-blond as a boy, if you can believe it. I wonder if their hair will get lighter as they grow up, like me, or if they'll take after you, and it'll get darker."

That statement was very much in line with his fondness for taking every possible opportunity to remind Saya that they were his, in at least some nominal way.

Saya actually felt some real irritation at the statement, along with the usual guilt and embarrassment.

"We should actually get going."

He refused to allow her to blow him off, or at least that was how he interpreted the statement. "Oh, I forgot to mention, I'm actually flying out to spend a few days with your mother and stepfather soon."

"Oh. I hope you have a nice trip, but I should really be -"

"Saya, if you or the girls ever need anything, and I do mean _anything_, don't hesitate to -"

"I know, Solomon," she said shortly, and immediately felt bad for it, picturing his dejection. "Solomon -" her voice became a good deal softer, almost tender.

"Yes?" his tone was distinctly hopeful.

"Take care of yourself."

The dial tone sounded before he could answer.

He stood by the window, head bowed, limply grasping the phone in one hand and the other over his head and half of one eye, not so much in way that suggested he was concealing tears, it was more the sort of gesture someone might have at the start of a sudden headache.

He didn't turn when he heard the door open.

"Mr. Emerson is on line one," the rough voice called cautiously from the doorway.

It was a few seconds before he answered, swallowing before speaking.

"Tell him I'll call him back."

"Yes sir," she immediately made her exit, sensing that her boss didn't want to be disturbed.

"Oh, Tess -"

"Yes, sir?"

"Could you please cancel my flight out to Los Angeles, this Sunday."

"Should I try to reschedule, sir?"

"No. I think I'd rather drive."

* * *

Saya and Haji's home was attached at either side to the house next to it, with a tiny backyard just big enough for a little patch of grass, and a miniature plastic sandbox, filled with sand Kai and Haji had hauled away from the nearest beach. The front yard was even smaller, a driveway empty save when guests were over, bordered by a bed of pink impatiens, a small rock garden surrounding a miniature palm tree still shorter than the twins, and a solitary rose bush.

The two little Queens skipped out the door, Saya close behind, and Haji lagging back to lock the front door.

Unfortunately, the brick steps leading down from the small porch managed to catch Lis' toe, causing her to tumble forward onto her hands, earning a scrape on each one.

The little girl glanced back at her parents in order to gauge their reaction so as to create her own, not having enough experience with injuries to know which ones warranted a screaming fit.

Saya gasped in distress.

Before Lis could pick up on Saya's cue that her injury was indeed a cause for concern, Rose bounded toward her injured sister, arriving at her side before her mother could.

"Need a kiss?! Need a kiss?!"

The little girl bent over, lips moving towards her sister's still bleeding hand.

"NOOO!" Saya shrieked, diving between the little girls, pushing them apart none too gently.

The twins simultaneously burst into tears, confused and frightened by their mother's actions, fleeing to their ever-calm papa, each clinging to one of his legs in terror.

Haji descended to his knees, holding the two girls gently for the few seconds until they'd calmed down, then pulling away in order to look them in the face.

"Rose, Lis, do you know what a poison is?"

"Like the no-no bottles under the sink?" Rose ventured.

"Yes, like the bottles under the sink. A poison can make you very sick, or can even make you die." He paused, "You're sister's blood is poison to you. Lis' blood is poison to Rose. Rose's blood is poison to Lis. You must never touch, or kiss each other's booboos. Do you understand?"

The little girls both nodded. Saya watched the scene, feeling proud of her husband, and incompetent herself.

Haji smiled. "Lis, let me see."

Lis held up her hands, and sure enough, all that was left of the injury was a smear of blood, quickly wiped away by Haji's trusty handkerchief.

Saya crouched down beside Rose, who cast down her eyes in shame and spoke before her mother could. "I sorry I naughty, mama."

Saya's lips parted in shock, and shame on her own account. "Oh sweetheart, you weren't naughty, not at all. You heard what papa said about poison. I was afraid you might get hurt, I didn't mean to scare you. You're not naughty, sweetheart." Saya drew the child into her arms. "I'm glad that you care so much about your sister."

The view from over Rose's shoulder was blurred by tears, Saya's eyes resting on the bush by the driveway, and it's sole, late-season bloom.

The color of that one lonely flower was neither pink nor red, but just about the last color that one might have expected to see on a rose in Saya and Haji's yard.

…

They had just moved in to the house, and had traveled to a local plant nursery in hopes of sprucing up the barren front garden.

Saya stared down past her enormous pregnant belly at the thorny plant in front of her, Haji standing beside her, in silence.

They were approached by an employee, an old man.

"Aren't they beautiful? You know, some legends say that anyone who possesses a blue rose will live forever, and some say they grant wishes."

"Mm." Saya acknowledged his statement out of politeness.

"They've only been available to the general public for a few years," he continued, "Natural roses can't create blue pigment, but I've read that these were developed by scientists, using the genes from blue delphinium flowers. Pretty interesting, eh?"

"Yes," Haji stated.

The old man seemed to sense that his information was not especially wanted, and walked away.

Haji placed his hand on Saya's shoulder as she stood. "There are some very nice pink hybrid teas over here. Shall we take a look?"

"No." She answered, soft yet decisive, "I want this one."

…

Haji never needed to ask why Saya had chosen to plant a blue rose in their yard. He knew that it was a sort of living, makeshift memorial to the sister she had murdered.

Only after her death, did Saya remotely understand her twin sister, or allow herself to think of her as anything other than a mindless killer.

_She was even more damaged than I am. Maybe she wasn't really an evil person… _

_It's just that she was never taught how to be good person._

It still remained to be seen if this retrospective sympathy would endure the immanent discovery of her sister's being alive.

* * *

Two girls emmerged from their high school gym.

"I'm kinda pissed at you."

"Why?" Diva asked curiously.

"About that shit with Wes."

Diva forced a laugh. "That was just a joke…"

"It wasn't just a joke, and you know it!"

Diva hesitated a moment. "Fine, then, I admit it, I was kinda trying to get you to make a move– c'mon, you admitted having a thing for him months ago, and you still haven't told him!

After all, one of her parents was Nathan. It would seem unlikely that under such conditions, she wouldn't develop at least a little bit of a manipulative streak.

"Diva! I don't know if you really get it but – Wes is like my best friend next to you, telling him that I like him is really risky – if I don't go about this carefully, things might never be the same between us, and not in a good way!" she paused. "I'm starting to think it might be better if I just kept it to myself."

Diva laughed mockingly. "Oh, chance of failure equals don't even try. Now there's an attitude that'll get you ahead in life."

Her other parent was Yuki, so arrogance, or at least the appearance of it, was also somewhat unavoidable.

Max rolled her eyes. "Oh shut up Diva, you've never asked a guy out in your life, you just flirt with them and then never actually move in for the kill – remember how you chickened out with Chris?"

"I did NOT chicken out! I just – thought the better of it!" she declared defensively. "And besides, I probably _have_ asked a guy out before."

"How do you figure that?"

"Well, my memory only goes back five years – who knows what I was like before that. I mean, my dad says I was born in 1833, and it's 2044 now – I guess I'd find it hard to believe that I never followed through after putting the moves on someone over the course of two-hundred-something years. For all either of us know, I might have been a total slut back then. Hell, I could have easily slept with hundreds of guys." She suddenly grimaced in disgust, "For some reason, I really feel like taking a long, _thorough_ shower now."

The two girls laughed for a moment, and Diva returned them to their earlier disagreement. "But seriously, you need to get off your ass with this Wes thing!"

Her companion's tone turned to something a little past annoyed, she was clearly upset. "Yeah but you don't get to decide this for me! You're my best friend, which means I respect your opinion, but you don't just get to decide this stuff yourself!"

Diva's countenance faltered, her usual smug grin melting into an expression of genuine shame, and even a little bit of fear.

It was hard to say if that insecurity was the gift of her traumatic, latent past, or just a testament to what a normal teenager she was.

"I'm – I'm sorry. It was kinda a spur of the moment thing, and I thought I was doing you a favor," she sniveled.

Max's tone softened. "Yeah well, that's not quite how I see it, but I know you meant well."

Diva let out a grunt of frustration. "Why is being a good person so damn - confusing?! I bet being a total jerk would be so much _simpler_." She paused taking on a pleading expression. "Please don't hate me."

"God Diva! You go from self-righteous to self-conscious faster than anyone I've ever met! And I don't freaking hate you."

"Are you sure?"

"Drop it, will you?!" she smacked her playfully on the back. "C'mon, let's talk about something else – hey, I couldn't ask you before 'cause there were people around, and Wes still seems a bit weirded out by the subject, but, that cute guy that's coming to stay with you, is he a vampire too?"

"Well, yeah, but damn it Max! I told you, I'm not a vampire!" Diva exclaimed with a scowl, essentially contradicting herself within her own statement.

Her friend laughed. "God, you say that like its some horrible racial slur."

Diva pursed her lips and crossed her arms. "Vampires are gross and evil and oversexed. I am a chiropteran, and my mom says we have a rich and noble heritage, and she _haaates_ the "V-word."

Max narrowed her eyes skeptically. "Well, no offense Diva, but, I know that's not V8 you drink before practice."

"Eh, that's watered down, and _I_ only suck blood from a straw," Diva retorted proudly.

* * *

Reviews would be ever so wonderful!


	3. The Samurai Mom, part 2

Another freakishly long chapter, but life's been kinda crazy lately, so when I post, it tends to be in one giant lump – but once things settle down a bit, I'll try to space things a little more reasonably.

Btw, this chapter contains citrus content. Avert ye eyes, ye young or prudish.

* * *

The white-picket gate squeaked open, and Saya, Haji and their little ones stepped on to the playground, populated with around two-dozen young children, a few teachers, and a few other parents.

"Welcome!" a friendly voice hollered in English.

The teacher looked to be in her fifties, heavy, with black hair that was half-way to gray, but with an unmistakably nurturing countenance.

"You must be Mr. Goldschmidt, we spoke on the phone," she continued.

Over a hundred years and being called _Mr. Goldschmidt _still didn't sound quite right to Haji, even though he hardly remembered what his original surname was.

She looked over to Saya, maintaining her friendly smile. "And you must be – the nanny?"

Saya's lips tightened slightly, but she managed to shake it off. She was fairly used to that. "I'm their mother."

"O-oh." The teacher looked at least a little embarrassed. "Well, you just look so young - I mean that as a compliment, of course."

Saya forced a laugh. "Oh, well, I wear sunscreen everyday and drink lots of water."

She'd heard that line used by Aka or Ruka; she couldn't remember which.

"And, Mrs. Goldschmidt, let me compliment you on your flawless English."

_I've been speaking English longer than you have,_ Saya thought to herself.

"Thank you."

"And this must be Rose and Lis!" the teacher sighed, crouching down beside the two little girls. "And they look just like their father!"

Saya winced at that, mainly because she knew Haji wouldn't.

They really did look like their father, their biological father. Rose and Lis had inherited Solomon's face almost exactly, only with dark, ebony-auburn hair.

The heinous irony was that because of their fair skin, dark hair and European features, at first glance, they bore a resemblance to Haji, particularly Rose, with her blue eyes, though not the same shade. All too often, strangers would make similar declarations, proclaiming how they looked just like their father, which was all too true, and made Saya all too uncomfortable.

The children not being Haji's bothered Saya much more than it did Haji; she constantly feared for his feelings. He had never given any indication of being bothered by it, but she knew too well that he rarely gave any indication of being bothered by anything. The subject was so awkward that Saya virtually never had the nerve to bring it up, and knowing how awkward it was to her, neither did Haji.

In truth, the children being biologically Solomon's didn't really bother Haji at all. Again and again, both in his own life and in those he observed, relationships were made in the heart, not the blood. The best possible examples involved Saya, in his opinion. Saya had, at separate times, grown to think of men who weren't her father, as her father, and boys who weren't her brothers, as her brothers. And then on the other hand, there was her relationship with Diva, she had once shared a womb with her, and yet, clearly wasn't her sister, at least emotionally.

That wasn't to mention that by blood, in the chiropteran sense, Saya was Haji's mother, so there was no way he could take such things too much to heart, or he himself would be considered _sick_.

Haji really did adore Rose and Lis.

_For over a century and a half, I believed that I could never care for anyone as much as I do Saya, and here I am, proven wrong, twice over._

The two little girls stood back, clinging to Haji's pant legs again.

Saya forced another laugh. "They always hang onto him when they're nervous. I wonder why?"

The teacher smiled. "Is that what _you _do?"

That caught Saya a little off guard. "Yes. I guess it is." She quickly changed the subject, things were getting a little two personal for a conversation with a stranger.

"Any behavioral concerns I should know about?" the teacher asked.

Saya hesitated before speaking. "They – do – bite people occasionally, but it hardly ever happens anymore."

"Oh, I see. Well, that's not really uncommon for children their age."

Saya was immensely glad to hear that, she'd been fretting quite a bit that they were a little too _inhuman._

"So, do Rose and Lis have any food allergies?"

"No, but there are some medical issues I wanted to discuss with you. Do you have a minute? It's a little complicated."

"Sure."

Mother and teacher stepped outside the play yard, and Saya began a well-rehearsed speech created with the help of Dr. Silverstein, about how her daughters had a rare (and fictional) blood-borne disease, and were receiving a new and experimental treatment that _might make them _seem _unusually fast and strong for little girls_, and also_ caused them to heal from injuries _a little_ faster than other children._

The girls remained with Haji. With a little encouragement, it wasn't long before they let go of his pant legs, and began to explore.

They were instantly enamored with the large sandbox, soon settling into a game in which they patted mounds of wet-sand into balls and placed them on a bench, talking amongst themselves about what filling was in each ball of mochi.

After a few minutes, Lis' collected one of the sandy creations and brought it over to Haji, sitting and watching from a few feet away.

"Thank you." He brought the ball of sand to his lips, discreetly sprinkling the sand on the ground to enhance the illusion. "Delicious."

Lis smiled and went back to_ baking _for a few minutes, before moving on to some various toys laid out on a nearby table.

Shortly after, Rose scampered up to Haji, tugging on his trousers at the knee as if ringing for the butler. He looked down to find the girl wordlessly offering up a trio of small, round beanbags to him, her sister standing close behind. They didn't need to say anything, he knew exactly what they were asking for.

Haji took the bags from Lis' little fingers, took a large step back and began to juggle them with notable skill. Within seconds, he was mobbed by other children, laughing and jumping up and down in delight, squealing with excitement when he tossed them especially high. After a minute or so, all three balls landed neatly in one hand, and he gave a mechanical bow.

He vaguely recalled that this was one of the more crowd-pleasing routines he'd perfected in his early youth, apparently still imprinted in his motor-memory. How proud he had been of being able to earn money for the tribe, and how excited he had been at the prospect of learning more advanced and dangerous techniques of the older boys, like knives or torches. In fact, the discovery of his juggling abilities had been a key factor in Saya's decision to like (and not just pity) him during his early days at the Zoo, as it was virtually the only thing Haji had any control over, having the ability to dispense or withhold this amusement.

Even when the other children had begun to disperse, those two little faces remained, smiling up at him. True, Rose and Lis bore a remarkably strong physical resemblance to Solomon, but when they smiled, they were _all_ Saya, little lips curling, and eyes twinkling in precisely the same way. In addition to a real intrinsic desire to please them, those smiles acted as an added bonus for Haji.

Haji sat back down, and was eventually joined by a middle-aged, mustached man sporting a military uniform, presumably another parent. The insignia on his uniform indicated a lieutenant colonel, if Haji recalled correctly.

"That's a pretty neat trick." The man laughed. "You used to be with the circus or something?"

"In a manner of speaking," Haji stated.

"So, which kid you belong to?" he asked amiably.

"The twin girls, in pink," Haji answered, gesturing toward the sandbox.

Haji's new acquaintance turned to look over the little ones.

"Well, I don't care if I'm less of a man for sayin' so, but they are just god-dang darlin'. I'm with the little_ hapa _boy, in the yellow shirt." He paused waiting for an appropriate compliment.

"A very handsome child." Haji forced himself to say.

"So, where you work on the base?" asked the officer.

"I do not work at Kadena."

"Huh, well, an American in Okinawa – it was a fair guess, don't you think?"

"I am not an American."

"No kiddin'? You sound American!" the officer chuckled.

In terms of accent, Haji was nothing if not a chameleon.

"So, where you from then? You don't look like a local."

For Haji, that was hardly a straightforward question, so he gave the simplified answer.

"France."

"No kiddin?!" he laughed. "Well that sure explains why ya got all snooty when I called you an American!"

There wasn't even the slightest bit of hostility in the tone of the comment; it was nothing more than a friendly quip.

The colonel glanced back toward the sandbox, apparently noticing Saya, now done with her conversation and crouching beside the twins.

"I bet your wife just _hates _her." The officer winked.

"I do not know who you mean."

"That pretty babysitter a' yours."

Haji's fingers curled against his chair.

"That _is _my wife."

The colonel glanced at her again. "Well I'll be damned, sure does look young though, doesn't look a day past eighteen, and with three year old kids… you ole dog! I don't blame ya, dang, they do have some pretty girls 'round here, don't they? I traded in the old clunker for a newer _Asian model_ myself." He leaned over and spoke in a more hushed tone. "_These_ gals are much better at _mindin'_, you know."

The legs of the chair ground against the concrete as Haji stood.

"Excuse me," he muttered, barely concealing his irritation.

Saya approached a moment later, curious at Haji's cold retreat from the conversation.

"Haji," she whispered, "you're supposed to be making friends, so the girls will have children to go on play-dates with."

"I know, but -" he flinched slightly, "that man was _beyond_ insufferable."

* * *

A white-coated nurse approached her from behind.

Aka raised her hand to cut them off before they spoke. "I'm taking my break."

Akahana Miyagusuku stepped into the hospital elevator, pressing the button for the basement level, and unthinkingly glanced up at the reflective chrome wall.

Even though she had stopped aging at around sixteen, as do all Queens, she had changed her face to appear somewhere in her twenties. _At first it's kinda like making a funny face all the time, _she had explained to Saya, _but then you totally get used to it._

It was something so necessary in her current job, that she was starting to regret not making herself look even older. No one wants a young doctor.

The best way to describe her was a more grown-up version of Diva in her last few months, after she'd taken Riku's face (which, now that she looked older, curiously gave her something of a resemblance to Kai), only with mahogany-brown eyes and black hair cut neatly just below her chin, bangs cut straight across her brow.

The elevator ride was remarkably long, due to the remarkably tall building.

She too had ended up in New York City. A new start in the place where her life started. A breather in the place where her mother breathed her last breath. Some time to decide her fate in the place where the fate of the world was decided.

She felt something vibrating in the vicinity of her pocket, and she pulled out her phone.

"Yo?"

"Hey, it's me."

There was no need for more information; it was her twin sister. Somehow, Ruka always managed to call during her breaks, even though they happened at inconsistent times.

"How's it goin' Aka? Are you okay? You don't sound so good."

"Oh, yeah, just kinda _runnin on empty._ I was just about to go down to basement storage and go _grocery shopping_."

"I'd offer to send you some of my blood, but I kinda doubt that would help you any," Ruka laughed. "Hey, can't you hit Solomon up? He's usually good for some, and you live in the same city."

"Yeah, well, getting from one end of Manhattan to the other isn't as easy as it sounds, and besides…"

"Is he still creeping you out?"

"I wouldn't know, I've been avoiding him like the plague." She let out a groan-like sigh. "It's hard to explain, it's like, when he takes me out to brunch or whatever, I just can't stop thinking that he might – he might – start imagining a different face around these eyes, if you know what I mean… and that's one big wad of awkward I'd rather not get tangled in – I mean, the guy is like a second father to me." She paused. "But still, it's not like he's said or done anything, I can't tell if it's all in my head or not."

"Aka, maybe you're a little attracted to him, but you just can't admit it to yourself because it would be too incredibly _weird_."

That comment was met with silence. Her twin sister always had a way of saying things she didn't want to think about. But while she did like to play devil's advocate, in the end, Ruka always seemed to _understand_.

"Still Aka," her sister continued, "even if it is all in your head, that doesn't change how uncomfortable he makes you. I can see why you'd avoid him."

"Yeah, and on top of that, the guy is just generally a buzz-kill these days."

"That's for damn sure."

Aka decided to change the subject. "So how are things going on the RS II?"

"Okay. Boring as hell. Julia's showing me how to use the equipment, says that at this rate, she should be able to retire next year – you know, we could really use you out here."

"Yeah, yeah. I know." She walked paced over to the other side of the elevator. "How's Dave? Still_ dragging his feet_?"

By Dave, she meant David and Julia's son, the grandson of the David killed by Saya in Vietnam.

"Yeah."

"Do you think he's gonna change his mind, chicken out?"

"He better not, or I'll kick his ass."

…

It had been about two months ago, the start of a series of events, leading to Aka leaving Okinawa. Dave had just been through a routine-maintenance surgery on his artificial lungs. He was lying in a hospital bed, looking even more serious than usual, Aka and Ruka close beside him.

"I'm never gonna be like I was," he muttered dejectedly. "It'd take a _miracle_ to get this damn tube out of my nose and junk outta my chest. I'm fed up."

Ruka glared past the tears forming in her eyes. "Dave, I swear to god, if you ask me to _pull you're plug, _I swear I'll -"

Aka almost laughed, knowing that what her sister wanted to say was _I swear I'll kill you,_ but that wouldn't have been very appropriate in this particular context.

Dave actually did laugh, but his tone turned serious immediately after. "I'm not asking for death. I'm asking for a _miracle._"

Aka and Ruka gasped.

"I take it you know what I meant."

It took Ruka a few seconds to find her voice. "But when you first got hurt, you said you'd rather die..."

"Yeah, well, I'm not dead, am I?"

"Dave -" again, she was speechless for a moment. "Dave, the thing is – to save your life is one thing but… I know you, I know how independent and head-strong you are, so – I'm not really sure if being a Chevalier is a good choice for you – I mean, you know how it works, you'd probably wind up falling in love with me and worshiping me against your will."

Dave laughed again. "Now why the hell would I give a shit about that when I already did all that stuff years ago."

After another pair of gasps, Aka could no longer keep silent; she stood from her chair. "Now wait one damn minute!" she yelled at him. "Are you saying you've been in love with her for all this time?!"

"Yeah, I guess that's what I'm saying."

"You're full of shit! You've had half a dozen girl-friends! Hell, you were even engaged to Javier for a while!"

"I didn't go through with it did I?"

"You said that _she_ broke it off…" Ruka whispered.

"Yeah, well, I lied."

"Yeah, well," Aka copied his tone, "I'm not letting you mess with my sister's heart like that!"

"That's exactly why I kept all this from her!" Dave shouted. "I know how she feels about me, I'm not stupid. And I knew that once I had her, I wouldn't be able to put her down, and if that happened – I knew what that would mean. I'd either end up as some crippled old man and a burden to her, or have to give up my stupid-kid _principals…_ but I've had a lot of time to think these days, and I really don't care anymore. I was so scared of going against my oath as a Shield, but realistically, I'm no help to anyone like _this_, I'm just a drain on their health plan."

It might have seemed odd that he would say all this, make his admission of loving Ruka when her sister was sitting right there, but he had known both of them for his whole life, and knew perfectly well that anything he said to one would end up being repeated, verbatim, to the other.

He finally turned back to Ruka. "I know it might sound like I have an ulterior motive for doing this, that I just want to be done with this cripple shit, but – Ruka you know me. You know I'm not like that." He pointed to the tube in his nose. "This thing isn't giving me a reason to be yours. It just cancels out a reason not to."

Ruka was weeping by this time, these were the things she'd been waiting to hear for nearly her whole life, and had virtually given up on.

Of course, Aka knew this, and decided that the moment needed to be lightened up a little. "Dave, let me tell you a little story. A million years ago, when we were all, like, five, you, me and Ruka were playing _house_, and Ruka and I were fighting over who would get to be your wife. We rock-paper-scissored for it, and she won. Ever since then, you've been her rightful property. Worked out well for me, 'cause ever since, whenever we were both interested in any other guy, I'd get first crack at him, by default."

…

"Lately," Ruka continued, "he's been talking about sometime next year."

"Well, let me know whenever Dave's feet thaw out, and I'll fly over. I wanna see him get all _twitchy._"

It took Aka nearly a minute to gather the nerve to ask her next question. "How's Joel?"

By Joel, she meant the twenty-seven-year-old Joel VII, heir to the Goldschmidt legacy, and future leader of the Red Shield. "And please just answer in two words or less," she abruptly added.

"I don't think that's really possible."

"Ruka, don't _start_ with me!"

"I'm not starting – I just think that – you could have explained things a little better to him – he – he still thinks you're coming back."

"I am coming back… someday."

"I mean, he thinks you're coming back to _him_."

There was a long silence before Aka answered. "He'll figure it out. He's not _that_ stupid."

Silence again.

"Look, I should get down to the basement and grab something to drink before my break is over, or I'm gonna start getting woozy. Call ya later."

"No prob, bye."

Aka hit the little red button, and returned to staring at the wall, unable not to think of a particular conversation she'd had with her sister, not long after Dave's fateful request, and not long before running away to New York.

The sinking sensation of the descending elevator seemed curiously appropriate.

…

She sat on the sand, staring at the waves as they lapped at the beach, trying to collect her thoughts.

Her sister settled in beside her. "So, why'd you turn him down?"

Aka groaned and didn't answer.

"You and Joel have been friends for a few years and dating for a few months, and you were the one who asked him out in the first place. C'mon Aka, it's not every day that you do something that I don't completely understand. _Make _me understand."

"Well, first of all, he only asked me 'cause Dave asked you, and you know what a brown-noser Joel is to him."

"So? Maybe it was like with Dave, where he was just waiting for an excuse. I mean, it's not like it would be an easy choice considering who he is. I mean, he's a _Joel_ for god's sake!"

"You know, he as good as told me that his parents don't approve." Aka laughed bitterly. "Funny how that works, how people are totally fine with a particular _racial group, _until their kid's dating one."

"So wait? You turned him down because his parents don't like it? That doesn't _sound_ like you, Aka."

"I know, I know, that's not really why."

"Then why?"

"Because – because he's so -"

"So what?" Ruka cut in. "Because he's nice to you? Because he's reasonably good looking? Because he has a trust-fund the size of Antarctica? Because he accepts you for the blood-sucking monster you are and is even willing to become one himself?!"

"Because he's BORING!" Aka burst out. "He's boring."

Silence.

"See Ruka? You don't have anything to say to that, you know it's true."

"Well, it's not like Dave isn't boring."

"Yeah but that's completely different. You've been friends you're entire lives. He's like your god-damn _Haji. _But Joel isn't the same, there's no life-long mystical connection and – if he bores me now, then what's it gonna be like in a hundred years? A thousand years? Ten thousand years? What am I gonna do then? Dump him so he can turn into either some _twisted, flaming-queer drama-queen_, or some _sad-eyed pathetic ronin?_"

"The thing is, Aka, this really couldn't have come at a better time. If you change Joel, and I change Dave, then we can get this whole Chevalier-swapping thing over with and have normal, full relationships with our boyfriends."

_You mean settle down, have kids…_

"Oh-hoho, so that's it, is it? You want me to change Joel so you can fuck Dave in the fullest sense of the word."

Ruka glared. "Actually, _you'd_ be the one fucking Dave, at least at first."

Ruka had her there.

"Look! We may be twins, but just because you're ready for this, doesn't mean that I am! Having kids! Choosing someone that to spend the rest of eternity with! Why do I even need to have a reason to say no?! It's my life!"

"Yeah, but it's my life too," Ruka said frankly.

Of all the other things she'd said, that was the most convincing. By refusing Joel, Aka was denying her sister the life she wanted. It was a good reason, but unfortunately, only good enough to create guilt and a general aversion to the subject, as opposed to a genuine change of heart or plans.

…

It wasn't so much that argument with her sister that had made Aka resolve to move to the other side of the world. It was that all this ended up commonly known by the family, and one by one, virtually everyone Aka knew cornered her, and while there were a few subtle variations from person to person, over all, they were just repeating what Ruka had said in the first place. Kai, Mao, Julia, Yuki, Yuki's husband (and Aka would have dearly liked to know how it was any business of _his_!) and even Saya all had their turn. In that family full of heroes, it seemed that everyone thought that they would be the one to convince her.

Even though she was aiming for a break from her family, to prove she could make it on her own in the mother of all big-cities, Solomon's presence in New York hadn't bothered her at all, at least at first. He had been the only one who didn't seem to have an opinion on her and Joel, but even Aka could see that this wasn't really because he respected her decision or anything, simply that he was too wrapped up in his own romantic troubles, and really didn't care enough to get involved in someone else's.

The elevator finally dinged, and the doors rolled open to the basement floor.

* * *

Saya and Haji were now walking home, sans children. All of a sudden, Saya seemed very nervous. This marked the first time she had left the twins with anyone but Haji, or sometimes briefly with Kai and Mao, and once or twice with Solomon.

True, Haji adored them, but for Saya – Rose and Lis were her new _reason for being_, and there was nothing more horrifying to her than the thought of any harm coming to them, and nothing that occupied her worries more often.

"Haji, I've been thinking… that maybe it's too early to put them in school."

"According to most books I've read on the subject, this is the proper time, and we've already waited until the middle of the school session."

"I just think that they'd be better off at home… where we can be sure they're safe."

"What are you concerned about, specifically?"

"Well, there's so much American military around, what if Rose and Lis were exposed as chiropterans," she was already getting chocked up, just the thought of what she said next had her reeling, "then they would probably try to take them from us, turn them into weapons."

Haji tried to bring her back to a more practical line of thought. "We chose this school because it is the closest to our home. In an emergency, we could be there in a matter of seconds, and I have already observed that you seem to have a sixth sense for when they're in danger. Remember that day at the pool?"

A few months ago, they had been visiting the Jahana compound when Rose managed to sneak off to the pool, and Saya, at the other end of the multi-acre estate at the time, had the child in her arms within ten seconds of the initial splash.

"Saya, they need to be prepared for primary school," Haji continued.

"Maybe we can home-school them, then they'd never be in danger -"

"I do not think that isolating them like that would be beneficial."

Saya stopped walking, chin tensed in indignation. Haji immediately grasped his error; he knew that he had just inadvertently made her think of Diva, and that Saya had interpreted his statement as a comparison to her.

"I apologize. That was not the best choice of words."

Saya swallowed her fury just enough to speak clearly. "No. I think that was an excellent choice of words. It's not every day that you tell me what you _really_ think."

Haji sighed. "Saya – you know that – I am not - the most articulate of men."

_If you had wanted a _talker, _you would have ended up with _him, Haji thought, but kept to himself. "I did not mean to imply that they might be anything like Diva. _You_ were the one I was thinking of."

Saya huffed. "I don't want them to be like me either."

"That is not what I meant." He paused, hating himself for misspeaking again. "More than once, you confided in me that you were often very lonely growing up."

Nothing could have been more true. While her upbringing was worlds better than Diva's, Saya's childhood years had been very lonely, the only people she had to interact with were Joel, her nurse and later, her governess. The other servants seemed scared of her. Joel's acquaintances only seemed interested in looking her over curiously, and then returning to their conversation. Joel's biological children were no company to her either, his daughter had died before Saya was born. His son had gone away to school before Saya could remember, and during his occasional visits home, he seemed to make it a point to treat her with the utmost indifferent contempt, leaving the room whenever she entered it, the greatest expression of hatred permissible in polite society at the time.

"What are you thinking of?"

It wasn't _everyday_ that Haji even needed to ask.

"I was just thinking of how lucky Rose and Lis are – how much I had wanted a sister back then."

It took Haji a moment to respond.

"My apologies for not being a girl."

That got a smile out of Saya, and after looking round to see if anyone was watching, she took his hand. "I prefer you _this_ way."

He glanced around, and kissed her on the cheek, and they began walking again.

"Haji, did you – have any sisters?"

She could have sworn he once mentioned sisters, but it had been so long ago that she wasn't sure.

"Yes, three. All older."

"We're you close to them?"

His eyes wandered around, a gesture of unsureness that seemed out of place on him. "I can hardly remember." He paused. "I recall they used to protect me from the older children." He paused again. "But it came at a price. I often had to do their chores for them." Haji smirked again. "I suppose you could say that by the time I came to you, I was already well practiced at obeying young women."

"Could have fooled me," Saya chortled, "when you first came to the Zoo, you hardly ever did what I told you to, you'd just scowl and walk away."

"I was – angry at that time. Very angry. But not at you."

That brought Saya to a whole different melancholy topic.

"You've been through so much because of me," she murmured. "You would have been so much happier if you'd been able to stay with your birth-family."

Haji shook his head. "Do you recall our discussion about _what-if _questions like that?"

"Yes," she groaned childishly.

"And what conclusion did we come to?"

"That they're pointless… but how can I not wonder about that, how peaceful and nice you're life could have been? Don't _you_ wonder about it, sometimes?"

"Perhaps, in the very beginning. But it has been a long time since the idea has become virtually unimaginable to me." Haji realized that it would be necessary to state the obvious. "I would never have met you."

He decided not to go into the more _trivial_ minutiae of what his life might have been like, such as the crushing poverty and the stinging racism.

"But that wouldn't have mattered; you wouldn't know what you were missing, so to speak. You would have found someone else."

"My parents would have chosen a bride for me," he stated. "Probably one of the same children who used to beat me up."

"Joel always used to tell me that arranged marriages are usually very happy."

"Saya, he may have had an ulterior motive for saying that to _you_."

"Why?"

"Because he was trying to arrange _our _marriage. He outright told me once. More than just his experiment, he wanted to see you taken care of after he was gone."

Saya dragged the conversation back to the topic it was straying from. "Still, arranged marriage or not, you would have _grown_ to love her, whoever you ended up with."

Haji gave a sigh of defeat. "Hard as it is to imagine, I suppose I eventually would come to have some affection for her, out of psychological necessity, if nothing else."

Strangely, it didn't really to occur to him that one could say that this was essentially the foundation for his love for Saya. When he said that he'd always loved Saya, he had meant it, at this point, over a century later, he really believed that he'd loved her from the first day he met her, but memories are invariably viewed through the lens of the present. The truth was that he had feared and disliked her at first, but had _grown _to love her, and even if that love had been, in some way born of _necessity_, it was no less true or resilient than that which might come to be between two people who took an interest in one another_ before _their fates were intertwined, or whatever the modern paradigm was.

He turned to Saya, looking her in the eye. "But there is no way you will convince me that I would feel for such a woman the way I feel for you, that I would have been as happy with her as I am with you."

Somehow, the dry, unemotional frankness with which it was said made it infinitely sweeter.

Saya gave her own sigh of defeat; they had defeated each other, and just as the house was coming into view.

"Haji, was I really worth it?"

He considered it for a moment. "I have never really thought about you, or my life in those terms. You were never a goal, an objective I was working towards. You were Saya. My closest, dearest friend. And so I remained with you, and remain with you still."

She couldn't help a smile at that.

Just as they came to the front door, Saya finally dropped these depressing subjects.

"Haji, do you wanna _workout_?"

"I think that is an excellent idea."

"Rapiers or katana/dagger?"

"You choose."

"I asked you first!"

"It doesn't matter to me. You choose, Saya."

"Haji…" she grumbled chidingly.

He sighed again. "Fine. Rapiers then."

* * *

Past the first security camera, past the second, past the third, and finally, Akahana came to the door of that particular storage room. She glanced over her shoulder before entering, and once inside, looked around the room, and finding no one, went on with her task. She didn't bother to check behind the tall shelves that divided the room, assuming that if there were someone hiding back there, her chiropteran ears would surely hear them breathing.

Just as she reached for the cold-storage unit where the blood was kept, she did indeed hear a sound coming from back there, perhaps the faint rustle of clothing. She would have just left immediately if she had been _sure _that someone was there, but she wasn't, so she leaned to the side to look past the shelf.

Nothing but filing cabinets.

She went back to her task, and again, just as she was reaching for the handle of the refrigerator, she heard another noise, that of the storage room door slowly beginning to open.

She whirled around to find a young man already standing in the room.

She must have jumped two feet in the air, shrieking before exclaiming, "Motherfucker! You scared the crap out of me!"

Akahana was not at all used to being startled, her superior senses usually making that impossible.

"Sorry! Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you! I was just leaving; I didn't want to bother you."

Something about what had just happened really didn't add up.

_If he had just come in, the door would have been open all the way, and if he came in any other time after I did, I would have heard the door open. He must have been in here the whole time, but wait… the only place he could have been hiding was behind the shelves, but when I checked back there, there wasn't anyone. Somehow, he must have snuck past me. Guy would have to be pretty fast and quiet to be able to do that, that or the blood deprivation is really starting to affect me. Yeah, that must be it. No human could have snuck past me on a _normal _day._

As she caught her breath and calmed her nerves, she looked the young man over.

_Oooh! He's cute!_

He looked to be somewhere in his mid to late twenties (the age group Akahana typically targeted, despite her actually being in her late thirties). His face was characterized by soft, somehow shy features, fair skin, and brown eyes with an interesting translucent quality to them, that made her think of two white cups full of black tea. His hair was bone-straight and black, hanging just past his ears in front, but a little shorter in back. He had a slim build, dressed in what she would have called "business casual."

Her eyes finally made it down to the hospital I.D. tag he wore.

_Jonah Wang. Translator._

"What's a translator doing down here?"

"Um," he stalled for a few seconds, "I just had to tell someone _it's terminal, _and needed a minute to myself."

It sounded entirely plausible, but somehow, to Akahana, still reeked of bullshit.

"Couldn't you just do that in the bathroom?"

"It smells in there."

Aka shrugged. "Fair enough."

She saw his eyes dip down for just a little longer than it should have taken to read her I.D. tag.

"Are you that new E.R. doctor I've heard about, the one from Japan?"

Aka smirked. "Why, what have you heard?"

"Just that you seem a little young to be a doctor."

Aka laughed. "You know, you're the first person that's ever said that to me."

"Really?"

"NO!" she laughed again.

He smiled at that sarcastic rouse, his shy face seeming to come alive with exuberance, and perhaps a slight bit of mischief that Aka found rather charming.

His eyes ran over her name-tag again. "Can I call you _Red_?"

"_Red_? Why?"

"Because your name, it means _red flower_, doesn't it?"

"Oh! You speak Japanese… Uh, duh, stupid me, that's probably what you translate."

"Amongst other things."

"Why, what else do you speak?"

He began to count on his fingers, "English, Japanese, Mandarin, Cantonese, Vietnamese, French and German."

"You speak all of those fluently?"

"I've been told that my German isn't so great, but other than that, yeah."

"Wow, I didn't know that one brain could hold that many words."

He laughed a little, gesturing to his head. "Well, it doesn't hold much else."

"So, how'd a guy your age learn that many languages?"

His grin faded, and he took on that bull-shitty tone for a moment. "Well, here and there." He promptly changed the subject. "Hey, I noticed that when I scared you, you swore in English."

"So?"

"In my experience, people usually swear in their native language when they're startled."

Aka laughed again. "Well, I grew up in a pub full of Marines, of course I swear in English!"

"Marines? I thought you were from Japan -"

"Okinawa, dummy, Okinawa. The place's been crawling with American soldiers since the end of World War II… despite the best efforts of local politicians."

"Oh. Interesting."

There was finally a sizable pause in the conversation, Aka decided to fill it.

"So, we should probably get back to work."

"Yeah, probably."

She walked toward the door, but turned back to him for a moment. "Oh, and I'm not sure if you knew this, but stuff's been going missing from storage lately, so you should probably find another place to chill, unless you want to get fingered for it."

"Oh, um, that's good to know."

She opened the door to let him out, and fortunately, he took the hint.

"See ya around, Jonah."

"See ya around… Red."

And finally, she was able to grab her groceries.

* * *

Saya had changed into her kendo-gi, Haji just remained in his shirt and khakis.

The two faced each other on the small patch of lawn in the back yard, just barely large enough for sparring.

"Ready?"

"Saya, I believe we have an _audience_." He gestured toward a knot in the fence that divided their yard from the neighbors.

Sure enough, there was a little eye behind that little hole. They knew it was their neighbor's eight-year-old son, who was in the habit of spying on Saya and Haji's matches. After all, what could have been cooler to a little boy than a sword fights between the _samurai _that lived next door?

Unfortunately, what this really meant was that Saya and Haji had to take care not to do anything _inhuman. _

Saya groaned. "Shouldn't _he_ be in school?"

Haji shrugged with his brows.

"I hate having to hold back," she sighed, glancing at the knot in the fence. "Wait, I've got an idea."

She placed her sword on the grass and entirely without warning, hooked one arm round her husband's waist, her other hand on the back of his neck, gently, but insistently pulling his face into reach of her lips.

His weapon was carelessly tossed to the ground as he instantly and fully became absorbed in the kiss, not bothering to wonder at what motivation might be behind it.

"Eeeewwee!"

Saya smirked against Haji's lips at the small, groan of disgust coming from across the yard, pulling away a moment later, and peering back over her shoulder.

The knot in the fence was now clear; the display of affection had been sufficiently repulsive to drive the child away.

She grinned at the success of her scheme. "Well, now we know how to get rid of - "

She didn't even get the whole sentence out before her husband reclaimed her lips.

"Haji - " she giggled, "c'mon, let's get back to – hey! What are you -"

He had scooped her up into his arms and begun a mad dash toward the house.

Haji glanced down at her as he fumbled with the back door; his smile made a clear statement of _well, you started it._

He carried her upstairs with a single bound, just as he had forty years ago in her dimly lit halls of her Koza school, only this time, they were leaving a scattered trail of discarded clothing.

Things seemed to slow down a little once they had reached the bedroom, what little remained of their clothes lovingly removed by the other before settling into the low futon. He let out a deep sigh of satisfaction as she pulled him on top of her; she knew that there was something about the feel of her naked skin against his that seemed to draw him into a state of amorous ecstasy second only to what was still to come.

All throughout, she found herself reminded of their honeymoon, her mind briefly wandering over some of its more private highlights. It didn't consciously occur to her, but it made perfect sense that she would think of their honeymoon, after all, this was literally the first time they had had the house to themselves since the twins were born.

The pace was far more leisurely than usual, due to there being no hurry, no chance of one of the children wandering in, something that was ordinarily a very real possibility, even in the middle of the night. More than once, they had to make use of their superhuman speed to scramble to their respective sides of the bed, when a pair of sleepy-eyed little girls shuffled in the bedroom door, the night's activities discontinued when the girls nestled into the space between them. Because of this frequent occurrence, things tended to be a little rushed, in order to lessen the chances of their being interrupted.

Kisses and caresses were administered with exquisite care and enchanting eagerness, engrossed by nothing but each other, just as they had been during those first few weeks in Paris.

His lips wandered downward along her midline, veering off course to pay their respects to the silken hills on either side, tongue dipping into her navel, as if to inform her of his intentions, as if she didn't already know.

This made her think of their time on the Masai Mara, one of the few organized tours they'd taken part in. Their home at the moment had been little more than a rusty cot inside a small tent, their neighbors similarly housed a few feet away. In the past, this wouldn't have even registered as uncomfortable sleeping conditions, but now, the problem was that the cot was ridiculously noisy, they couldn't so much as scratch an itch without a loud _creeeek_ resonating across the few feet separating them from the next tent; thus any conventional marital intimacy would have been disturbingly obvious to their neighbors.

It was under these circumstances when they rediscovered those alternative means of satisfaction, the occasional, arrhythmic _creeeek_ due to squirming wouldn't give them away.

Fingers lost in raven waves, she pulled his face back up to eye level, playfully pushing him off her and onto the bed.

"Sit down," was her whispered command, and he did as he was told. Apparently, Haji was just as obedient in the bedroom as out of it

She wasted no time in settling into his lap, one hand on his shoulder, the other resting on the side of his face as they began their marital affirmation, that first lubricious movement creating a shiver that carried all the way to the devious white fingers assisting in her bliss.

It made her recall an afternoon in a Ecuador hotel room, when they had been obliged to wear nothing more than underwear, their clothes having been soaked by a sudden torrent earlier that day, now drying over the shower curtain. She had just woken from a nap to find him peacefully reading a newspaper by the window, when she took it into her head to get his attention. She lay on the bed, forming herself into various alluring positions, but still no response from him. Sick of waiting, she finally walked across the room and playfully pulled the newspaper from his hands, only to find him already smirking at her, apparently aware of her game, and immediately pulling her onto his lap with one hand, and closing the nearby blinds with the other.

He watched intently as she began to chew her lower lip, a gesture he knew was meant to make it easier to keep quiet.

"We're alone, Saya. There's no one to hear."

He hadn't even finished the sentence when she took his implied advice, stifled coos given leave to fly out freely as any noise her body commanded, shrieking her crest as she hadn't done in years.

A moment later she found herself lying on the bed, pulled to its edged, her husband kneeling on the floor, leaning over her, their respective positions interchanged.

That particular pose put her in mind of a certain episode when they had been hitchhiking their way through India. They had been walking through a rural area when the _mood struck them_, and they found their way into a dry pond beside the road. The tall, brown reeds afforded ample privacy, but also allowed them no comfortable place to lay or lean. Necessity being the mother of most good ideas, his cello case was laid flat amongst the reeds, providing a surface just barely large enough for her back and head to rest on, thus becoming their makeshift marriage bed. There was a set of large, red chevrons imprinted in her back for several hours, oddly longer than if they had been scratches.

The entire honeymoon hadn't been like that though, that particular form of intimacy slowed to a halt towards the end, though not due the usual cooling off period. He never needed to tell her, but she knew well enough why; it was due to a combination of their both having old-fashioned notions about pregnancy, combined with her now unignorably pregnant belly acting as a constant, palpable reminder of her former lover, thoughts of whom made them both uncomfortable.

Fortunately, they both seemed to rediscover their lost _get-down-and-go _shortly after the babies were born – that is, during the rare moments they had to themselves, when the children were asleep, and Solomon wasn't buzzing around.

Haji fell onto the bed like a tipped cow, and she snuggled up next to him for their usual doze, neither quite asleep.

"Haji?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

His response was a widened smile as he pulled her closer.

"Haji?"

"Hmm?"

"Do I say that too often?"

"No."

He cracked open an eye, giving a lazy, sidelong glance. "Do I not say it often enough?"

She took a moment to think. "I guess you kind of don't need to say it. You always – show me."

She knew that he was a man of few words. But actions speak louder than words, and he had been proving his love to her for over a century.

Saya turned to her husband with a playful grin. "But I guess you could say it _a little_ more often."

He nodded thoughtfully, and the two drifted back into post-coital repose.

"Saya?"

She giggled slightly, knowing what was coming, and decided to play along.

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

* * *

Please take a moment out of your busy day to review!


	4. Old Love

Okay, in spite of all odds, you guys are getting a chapter right in the middle of finals week…

* * *

The double yellow extended endlessly out before him, he wasn't really sure where he was exactly, some arid interior state of little consequence, as far as he was concerned, and it would be nearly a thousand miles before he'd even have to think about getting on a different highway, just like that tortured retreat, five years ago.

_Wandering through the desert, like Layla's madman…_

The decision to drive cross-country had absolutely nothing to do with price; Solomon could have easily hired a private jet, if he had wanted to. Road conditions didn't concern him much either. After all, he was indestructible and appallingly rich.

No, for almost as long as he could remember, time spent driving a car had always been conducive to thinking clearly, something about the freedom of it, of being able to go anywhere without having to ready a carriage, consult a train schedule or call a cab. This was in sharp contrast to time spent in his New York penthouse apartment, immersed in the bittersweet events it's walls had borne witness to, the bed still made with the sheet she'd wrapped herself in, the blinds still open, as she had opened them.

_I need to think. I've been avoiding it for far too long._

And that was exactly how he was passing the hours, thinking, and anyone who knew his history could make an accurate guess as to on who his thoughts centered.

"Saya."

It had been just under five years since Saya had completed her rejection of Solomon by marrying his rival, or rather the fiancé he had sought to supplant, all very shortly after Solomon had deflowered and impregnated her, at her own request.

For the years immediately following, his recollections of that night had been an indispensable comfort, vivid memories of the few moments when she had been his, the heat of her skin, her eyes, glowing so brightly that he could see them through her eyelids, of her crying his name as if it were the only word she knew, as if for that one moment, he was the one she truly loved. Those memories had delivered him from despair time and time again. Even though she'd married someone else, robbed him of _all_ future happiness, those memories would still be his to do with as he pleased.

But lately, things had changed. Lately those memories had not only lost their spiritually regenerative powers, but had become even more painful than flashbacks of watching the woman he loved get married, from the perspective of a groomsman.

_Thinking of her has become so unpleasant, the good memories even more than the bad. Thinking of her used to be my favorite pastime; during her last sleep. I would set aside time every day to lie in that bed and let her overrun my mind. But now, I can barely stand to think of her. What does that mean? _

_I love her, but I hate the thought of her._

_Is that a contradiction?_

_But still, when she called me a few hours ago, I whipped out my phone just as joyfully as if I thought she would say "I've left Haji. I'm on my way."_

_What is wrong with me?_

He wasn't at all in the habit of asking these questions of himself, but yesterday's conversation had made it unignorably clear that it had to be done.

Oh, it wasn't the first time that he'd been shot down by a woman he was head over heels for, but Diva had actually been much easier to get over. This was chiefly because in that case, his ego had been left comparatively intact. When Diva made it clear that she had no intention of ever becoming involved with him, either romantically or physically, it had also been at that time when he'd realized that just as she wasn't capable of loving him, she wasn't capable of loving anybody – thus it was due to no fault of his.

And it was because of this that he had been able to continue loving her, to some extent, for decades.

But Saya – now she was certainly capable of love in all its glorious forms, that was excruciatingly obvious. The rejection hadn't been of love in general; it had been of him, personally. She had taken inventory of his qualities and faults, and found him wanting.

How _could_ he maintain that absolute self-confidence after what had happened? Furthermore, in terms of an ego, the old adage seemed to apply – the bigger they are, the harder they fall.

Solomon had always been fond of the philosophy that with enough hard work and sacrifice, anything was possible, that anyone who failed to achieve their goals did so out of a lack of effort or dedication.

But Saya – for her, he'd put it all on the line, every card was laid out, he'd done anything and everything he could think of, to increase his chances with her. And still, she'd rejected him.

Even so, he would often get carried away, second guessing himself, wondering how things might have been different if he'd done something differently, if he'd punched Van in the face and danced with her all night, if he had come over to her side sooner, if he had been a little less rash in bringing her to New York, if he hadn't given Haji so much opportunity to be alone with her after she'd woken up, if he had made love to her this way or that, during their special night… the list went on and on.

Surprisingly enough, he had maintained complete celibacy since then. In the beginning, it had simply been out of a real lack of interest in any other woman, but now, this self privation had become a sort of backwards outlet for his frustration, as if Saya actually kept track of his love life, and might feel moved or guilty at his sacrifice. Lately he had started to realize the absolute futility of such feelings, but curiously, that only gave him the urge start an affair as soon as possible, to find the most conventionally desirable woman he could, as if his _infidelity_ would somehow hurt Saya.

_I know full well that wouldn't make any real difference, wouldn't make her come to me, but somehow, the idea of giving her back a little of her own does have a sort of appeal._

_I am angry._

_I admit that now._

_Angry at her for doing that to me. Angry at myself for letting her._

_How humiliating, to be used. _

It didn't quite occur to him that during his more hedonistic days, he had done exactly that to dozens upon dozens of women. He had always absolved himself of guilt on that matter based on the notion that most of them were only interested in his money, and any who weren't must have known better than to expect more from him. It didn't occur to him that perhaps, while they didn't _expect_ his love, that didn't mean they didn't want, hope and try their best to get it, just as he had five years ago.

_And yet, Saya made it clear from the beginning that our arrangement was purely out of necessity, she as good as said that she was only using me. And still I believed._

_She has all she's ever wanted, lives in perfect bliss while I'm forced to watch another man live out my most precious dreams._

He shook his head.

_I shouldn't feel this way. I should be happy for her. It shouldn't matter that her happiness is shared with someone else, as long as she is indeed happy. If I were a truer lover, I wouldn't feel this way._

_But is anyone really like that? Is anyone really that selfless?_

He chuckled in spite of himself.

_Yes, there is such a person. And she's married to him._

_If things had turned out differently, if I had been the one to win her, if I had been the one to make her dreams come true, _he_ would be happy for her._

The chuckle elevated into a full laugh.

_The spineless wretch would probably curl up at the foot of our bed if she let him._

He unthinkingly glanced up at the rearview mirror, and took notice of the grey car behind him, and the relatively familiar face above the steering wheel.

_Oh good god, it _is_ her. This is getting out of hand, and frankly, a little irritating. I'm may have to involve law enforcement if that woman keeps following me, like this. _

His lips formed into a wicked smirk. _Or maybe not._

_Let's see if that heap of yours can do 200._

His foot slammed down on the pedal, and within thirty seconds, that car, and his stalker, was no longer in sight. Confident that he had shaken her, he was free to return to his contemplations.

"Saya," he whispered aloud again.

_Cliché as it sounds, I suppose I love her, but am no longer in love with her._

_But I suppose the central question is this:_

_If Haji dropped off the face of the earth, or better yet, if she left him, if she showed up at my door, with Rose, Lis and suitcase, desperate to know if my offer still stood…_

_Would I accept her?_

_What a stupid question. Of course I would, without hesitation._

_And yet… a part of me would hate myself for doing it, I doubt I could bring myself to really forgive her… but I did swear to love her forever, no matter what._

_No. The _real_ question is this:_

_Is it acceptable to break an oath of eternal love, just because they don't love you back?_

* * *

The loud growl of the engine ceased, and she left her bike on the nearby sidewalk, not concerned about parking tickets, as it was so late, and she didn't plan to be there long.

Akahana generally got off work at around midnight, and was carrying out her on-her-way-home ritual. A quick stop at her mother's grave.

Of course by now, the Met, and the rest of Lincoln Center had been rebuilt, and was rather similar to what it had looked like before 2006, when it had been bombed into oblivion by "terrorists."

The only real difference was the memorial, just beside the opera house itself.

It had been built during the period just after the bombing, when a few politicians had attempted to use Diva, or rather, Diva's public image – the up and coming 14-year-old singer, tragically killed in a terrorist attack on the night of her big debut - as a political tool, in attempts to reenergize 911's fading vengeful patriotism. However, this strategy had been abruptly abandoned when the media began to uncover strange "gaps" in Diva's past.

"Hi Mom," Aka said out loud, kicking a discarded fast-food cup away from the base of her mother's portrait.

Akahana was fully aware of her Diva's history, her tortured childhood, her tragic insanity, and her murderous habits. All this had been a strictly guarded secret when she and her sister were growing up, but when they turned twenty, their uncles, Nathan, Solomon and to a lesser extent, Kai, finally told them their mother's heartrending story.

Aka recalled that as one of the most difficult times of her life, so much to come to terms with. The support of her uncles helped a good deal, but what really got her through it, was her sister, the knowledge that as messed up as it all was, there was someone going through the exact same thing, right along with her.

She stood, looking up at the mural, a portrait clearly taken from Diva's old concert posters, and inscribed with the words "A voice from heaven."

You_ don't tell me how to live my life, mom._

"Is that you, Red?"

She jumped a little, turning around to find the same young man she'd run into in the basement.

"Oh, hi. What are you doing here?"

"I usually come through here on my way to the subway."

"Oh."

"And yourself?"

"I just like to hang out here for a few minutes before I go home." She glanced up at the mural, "this place has an interesting vibe."

_Sometimes, I can almost feel her presence. _

He smiled. "Weird, I've always felt that way too."

"Oh, weird."

He joined her in looking at the painting of Diva. "She looks kind of like you."

Aka tensed for a moment, then answered calmly. "Yeah? How about that…"

His gaze was now resting squarely on Aka's face, and stayed there for a little longer than would be considered polite.

"What?"

"What do you mean _what_?"

"You're staring at me."

"Oh, sorry. It's just – you have an interesting face."

She arched a brow at that. "Um thanks - I guess."

_I can't tell if he's trying to insult me, or hit on me… which probably means he's not doing a very good job of either._

"I mean it in a good way. It's interesting. I feel like I could look at it for hours and never get bored."

Her brows shot up even higher.

He seemed to regain that shy countenance from before. "I just came off as weird, didn't I?"

"A little bit," she answered, her high tone seeming to make it clear that she meant that as an understatement.

"Um, I'll just –go then. See ya." He turned to leave.

"You wanna go get something to drink?" she abruptly called after him.

He whirled around, and gawked at her.

"What? Is my English off?" she chuckled, "You're looking at me like I just asked you to shove a toaster up your ass."

"No, no, it's perfect, I'm just a little surprised, is all," he said, his shocked expression becoming that charming smile she'd observed the other day.

"Well, c'mon. I know a place."

She led him over to where she had parked.

"You ride a motorcycle?"

"What an astute observation," she giggled snidely, throwing one leg over the saddle.

"How can an E.R. doctor ride a motorcycle?"

"Like this!" she shouted, gunning the engine, and patting the space behind her, and then handing him the helmet. "Put this on!"

"But it's yours! And there's only one -"

"Trust me Jonah, I don't need it!"

"It wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me!"

"Do I look like the kind of girl who cares? C'mon, let's go!"

He did as he was told, donning the helmet and climbing onto the back of the bike.

"You have to put your arms around my waist," she commanded a little more gently. Now that he was so close, shouting wasn't necessary.

A pair of hands were placed timidly on either side of her torso.

"No, you have to put them _around_ me." She looked back over her shoulder, and smirked at him. "It's like spooning."

She heard him draw in a deep breath before he scooted closer, body pressed against hers, arms now snugly around her.

Her first thought was - _I could get used to this_, but a few moments later, _wow, he smells wonderful. What is that scent? Something about it seems kind of familiar. It's not soap, or aftershave or something like that. It's deeper than that, subtler, hard to grasp, even for me, a chiropteran. I only noticed it just now, that he's so close to me. Where do I know that scent from?_

_It's driving me crazy! What is that scent?!_

Just as she rolled to a halt at the first stoplight, the answer hit her, as shocking as lightning.

_Chevalier_.

* * *

Solomon arrived at the intended destination at around nine, the next morning.

The house was nicely situated in a slightly more _rural_ area, on the outskirts of Los Angeles. The property was rather large, with its own private drive branching off from the main road, the edges of the property well populated with trees, the area closer to the house thoroughly carpeted with plush green, where it wasn't bejeweled with flowers.

Solomon noticed the name inscribed on the mailbox as he stepped out of the car.

_Otonashi_.

At that moment, a voice came from behind him. "Nice suit! Why am I not surprised that you've taken to wearing gray lately? I whole heartedly support your new look, it actually really works for you, at least in that you look less like a funeral attendee or a prom date from the 1970s."

_Ignore his needling, or he'll never stop._

"Hello Nathan. I hadn't realized that _you_ took _her_ name."

Freddie looked just as he had when he first infiltrated the Red Shield, only he now appeared a little older, a few fashionably placed streaks of white in his hair.

"Oh, well, you couldn't expect a Queen to take the name of her consort. That's just not how it works."

Freddie opened the front door and gestured for his younger brother to enter.

The house itself seemed opulent to the point of near tastelessness, in Solomon's opinion. He was much more fond of modern, elegant simplicity than this lavish, gaudy stuff.

"I know it's abominably rude to ask, but how do afford all of this, Nathan?"

"What, you think you were the only one who was funneling money into a secret Swiss bank account?"

"Point taken."

"What about you? I heard through the grapevine that you're now worth over two billion."

_And yet I've never felt so worthless in my life._

_No, he probably worded it that way on purpose, just to get to me._

_Don't let him._

"Well, that isn't as big of a deal as it used to be," Solomon answered nonchalantly.

"So, what racket are you in, these days?"

"The usual, so to speak."

"Ah, pharmaceuticals."

"It's what I know best."

"Does this company of yours specialize in anything, Solomon?"

"Vaccinations, manufacturing and research."

Freddie grinned. "How – un-evil of you."

"It's become rather profitable," Solomon returned, almost defensively.

"Yes, I think I recall Amshel once telling me something along the lines of: the entertainment industry is all well and good, but the _real_ money is in necessities."

As they continued through the house, Solomon caught the distant sound of piano, and the acoustics seemed to indicate that it wasn't a recording.

_I suppose he's taught Yuki how to play._

It only took him a moment to recognize the tune.

_Diva's song, without the vocals._

"It sounds lovely on piano. Your arrangement, Nathan?"

The ancient Chevalier grinned proudly. "Why yes, thank you, it is. But she's certainly put her own spin on it."

The two continued on, finally coming to the back door. But instead of opening to the yard, it revealed the enormous glass room attached to the side of the house, enclosing nearly a sixth of an acre, featuring an artificial stream flowing from a small waterfall, and eventually becoming a koi pond, and various tall hedges that made it feel as if it had separate rooms.

"I told you before that I liked what you did with the Cinque Fleches conservatory." Freddie laughed. "Come on, there's someone I want to introduce you to." He gestured to the east end of the greenhouse, the apparent source of the music.

Solomon wasn't particularly suspicious at that. _He's probably given Yuki a makeover or something._

Even so, his situation seemed to conspire to bring his mind back to a particular moment, the scent of spring flowers, the sound of water, combined with what his older brother had said, and it seemed likely that in some way, perhaps subconsciously, Solomon already sensed who was on the other side of that hedge.

...

"Big brother, where are we going?"

"There's someone you must be properly introduced to."

It was 1917, early March. They were walking up the side of a green hill on the grounds of Amshel's chateau, getting farther and farther away from the main house.

"How are you feeling?"

There wasn't even the tiniest tinge of real compassion in Amshel's question; even then Solomon knew perfectly well that he was only interested in how he was feeling for the sake of taking it down in that little book, in the name of science.

"It's so bright," Solomon murmured, still shielding his eyes from the sun, "and everything has this strange, bothersome echo. Somehow, it makes me think of a very strange hangover."

Amshel dutifully took down every word.

"You'll get used to the light eventually. The echoes will fade, once you learn how to focus them properly."

Just as Amshel said those words, something appeared to take Solomon's attention as they began down the side of the hill; he could see a young woman beside the creek at the bottom.

She was kneeling by the bank amongst a large clump of daffodils, her back to the two approaching Chevaliers. All he could see of her was a fall of luxurious black hair, so long that it spilled onto the ground and over the royal blue velvet skirt settled in an irregular circle around her.

Amshel had been right; as soon as he caught sight of her, the echoes seemed to stop. It felt like his whole consciousness, and indeed, the whole world, revolved around her. He barely noticed the grave, bristly-bearded man also watching her from a few feet away.

"That will be all, Grigori," Amshel commanded. The girl's companion gave a single, low nod, and disappeared.

But as soon as Amshel's voice sounded, the girl beside the creek jumped to her feet and whirled around to face them, dropping the muddy stick in her hand.

_It's her, from the dungeon, the oriental girl with blue eyes._

"Amshel!"

Solomon would never forget the odd tone and expression that had accompanied that exclamation. She seemed happy to see Amshel, but just under that he detected a tone of anxiety.

He was bewildered by the way the girl seemed to appear directly in front of him, and assumed it was just an illusion created by his reeling senses.

"Who's this?" she asked, standing almost toe-to-toe with her newly-made Chevalier.

"This is Solomon," Amshel answered, his face forming into that evil smile. "He's going to be your new best friend."

"My new best friend," Diva echoed as she began to walk a tight circle around him, looking him over.

"I like him," she announced after completing a few circuits. "He has pretty yellow hair." She briefly crouched down and pulled up a clump of grass, "And his eyes are this color," she said, sprinkling the blades into the wind.

She returned to her former position, standing directly in front of him, staring him directly in the eye.

"Oh, I remember you now. I saw you when I was still sleepy." Her lips pursed, features forming into a confused, but thoughtful expression that he recalled finding inexorably charming. "You were wearing white then. Why aren't you wearing white now?"

_Because that suit now has a rather large bloodstain in it, and it's not as if I always wear the same color._

"You should wear white," she declared, "It makes you look like an angel."

_What could she mean by that?_

He would spend decades dissecting that comment.

…

The musician finally came into view, her back to them.

Freddie chuckled. "She hasn't noticed us. The house could come down around her ears and she wouldn't notice, if she was in a groove, as she appears to be now."

Strangely, as soon as he caught sight of her, though it was from behind, there were no further short-lived assumptions that it was Yuki. There wasn't the slightest doubt that this was Diva.

Still, disbelief required him to ask. "Is that really-"

"Yes, it really is."

"H-how?" Solomon stammered.

"Oh come on, you know exactly how. The blood of the mother can reverse crystallization, remember? You should have figured it out years ago, that I rescued Diva's remains from the Met; those necklaces I gave Aka and Ruka should have made that clear enough. Apparently Diva can spare a few carats worth of bold. Anyways, not long ago, a few weeks after Saya's wedding actually, Yuki used her blood to bring her back. Seeing it done on a body that was no longer whole was rather interesting, gruesome, yet miraculous – like childbirth. Left all these weird little red scabs all over the place."

Solomon stood, paralyzed by shock for a moment more, and then abruptly turned to leave.

"Where to you think you're going?" Freddie demanded, appearing in his path.

"If that really is Diva, then I think I'd better go. I suppose you recall that our last meeting wasn't exactly on friendly terms."

"That would be because you were a dumbass, and an indecisive one at that. Besides, Solomon, no need for you to worry your pretty head about that." Freddie gave that characteristic knowing smile again. "Seeing as she has almost no idea who you are."

"Amnesia?" he immediately asked.

"Complete amnesia. You didn't think memories could survive death and rebirth, now did you?"

It took him a moment to answer. "But Saya and Haji, a few years ago -"

"-were only dead for a few seconds, and that's if they had even fully crystallized by then. I suspect that they both maintained a gooey center all throughout. Besides, I don't know if you recall, but Saya was hooked up to a pack of Haji's blood shortly after that, and I've never heard of a Chevalier having amnesia." Freddie grinned again. "As long as she's denied the blood of awakening, she will remain free of her past. Her memories are locked safely in your veins, my friend, and there they will stay, unless you were to do something that I believe to be unthinkably stupid, even for you."

The elder brother sighed deeply. "Diva is finally free, free to have what her sister has always taken for granted – family, sanity, education – and even friends. Yes, that's right. _Real_ friends."

Solomon was understandably skeptical of that claim. "How did you arrange that?"

"I didn't, she met them at school, of course."

Solomon's mouth dropped open. "She – you put her in a public school?" he stammered incredulously. Somehow, the image of Diva in a school (without causing mayhem and massacre), was the most absurd of all.

"Good lord no! Those are dreadful in this country. Diva attends a private institution. But if by public school, you mean she sits in a room with a few dozen human children and socializes with them on a regular basis, then yes. She does. C student. Personally, I think she could do better if she really applied herself, but then again that's what all parents say."

Solomon's next question flew out as soon as it crossed his mind. "Does Saya know?"

His brother laughed. "I was waiting for you to ask that. And no, Saya has no idea about any of this, but before you go whipping out your cell phone like a total jackass, please know that Yuki and I will be breaking the news ourselves; we are departing for Okinawa, very shortly." He chuckled for a moment. "And much as I would _love_ to see the look on Saya's face if Diva just showed up at her door, Yuki and I have decided that it wouldn't be the wisest course of action, thus Diva will be staying behind."

Freddie patted Solomon on the shoulder. "And _that's_ where you come in."

"What?"

"Someone needs to look after her while we're gone."

"No, Nathan," Solomon said, his tone conveying his surprise at even being asked.

"Oh come now, you used to love _Diva-sitting_! I can recall more than one instance when things got rather tense between you and James, while deciding who would get the privilege. Boy did he hate your guts, it used to drive me _mad _that he despised you more than me, and you weren't even trying!"

"Surely you realize that you're speaking of a very different time."

"Well, regardless, it's not like I can ask anyone else to do this, now can I?"

"Nathan, if she is as normal as you say, then why do you need someone to watch her while you're gone?"

Freddie rolled his eyes. "It is because she's so normal, that I need you to look after her. You know how it works, Diva hasn't received the blood of awakening, therefore she is just as fragile as a human. She could get hurt, or even killed."

"In her own home?"

"You're damn straight. Solomon – from what I understand, you spent your adolescence either in a boarding school or a trench. You have no concept of what it is to be a teenager these days; they manage to get into all sorts of trouble. And that's not to mention that she's now living in a country that once tried to use her to take over the world. I could give you all sorts of worst case scenarios."

"I can't do it, Nathan."

The answer had become somewhat half hearted.

"Why? You have something better to do? Strangely enough, I've actually gone out of my way to make this convenient for you, arraigning for all this to happen during the holidays, so you won't have to worry about work, and I know that _you_ won't cry over missing the company Christmas party!"

Freddie appeared behind Solomon, "And what's more, you owe me a bigger favor than this, and you know it," he moved in, uncomfortably close. "Come on, you must be at least a little curious about her."

The song in the background reached its climax, just then.

Solomon sighed, and pulled out his cell phone. "When are you leaving?"

"Good boy!" Freddie clapped his hands at his own victory. "Well, our flight leaves at five, so we should probably head out in around two. We'll be returning in a week, with any luck, Saya will be coming with us."

"I suppose I should be grateful that you gave me _some_ notice," Solomon said as he dialed, and put the phone to his ear.

"Like I said, we tried to make this convenient for you, this way you won't have to hang around here any longer than necessary," Freddie insisted.

"Hi, Tess?" Solomon spoke into the phone, ignoring Freddie, "I want you to clear my schedule for the next few weeks."

_I have a feeling that I'll be inclined to stick around for when Saya and Diva actually meet._

"Oh – I don't know, tell them I'm in rehab. They'll believe that. Oh, and could you pop over to my apartment a few times, to refill the cat-food-machine-thing." – "Excellent. Thank you."

He hung up just as the end of the song wafted into silence.

Freddie clapped. "Brava! Well done, precious!"

She stood, and finally turned around, the expression on her face making it clear that she really hadn't known that anyone was there.

"Diva, this is your sister's Chevalier."

_Figures he would tell her that,_ thought Solomon.

She stepped forward, and extended her hand. "Diva Otonashi."

She looked the same, and yet somehow completely different. Her hair was shorter now, hanging down only just past her shoulders, her bangs grown out, those front sections of hair pulled up and back into a pair barrettes a few inches above her ears. Her complexion was different too, the pallor of being constantly kept indoors had disappeared, replaced by the same slightly sun-kissed apricot tone as her sister. She was dressed like someone who had no intention of going out that day, a blue tank top above a pair of oversized sweatpants that were actually surprisingly flattering to her still _perfect_ figure.

He reached to meet her hand, his eyes fixed on hers.

"Solomon Goldsmith."

He almost laughed out loud when he noticed her blatantly checking him out, eyes literally squinting, as if to scrutinize him more closely.

The déjà vu was almost overwhelming.

"I feel like - I've seen you before," she said thoughtfully. Solomon directed a brief and slightly nervous glance toward Freddie, wondering if all that talk of amnesia was just his brother's usual deceitful nonsense.

"Oh, I remember you now!" Diva declared. "You're the guy from my sister's wedding pictures!" Her voice turned to a childish pout. "I wish I could have been there."

"Precious," Freddie chimed in. "Remember what mom and I taught you about whining?"

"No one likes a whiner," she recited in a huff.

Freddie's voice sounded in Solomon's head.

"_We spent just over two years teaching her how to act like a human, mostly through behavioral techniques. It wasn't easy, oh no it certainly wasn't, unlike Saya, Diva had no previous experience with human society to subconsciously draw upon, so the learning process was quite slow. I would think of it as "comprehensive etiquette training," only, instead of teaching her which fork to use first, and the proper thing to say in various situations, we were also teaching her not to bite people. We actually conditioned something of an aversion to it using a loud obnoxious noise._"

Freddie's voice then transitioned back to the realm of human hearing.

"Oh, Solomon, be a dear and drive us to the airport."

* * *

_I don't believe it! He's actually a chiropteran! That totally explains what happened on Thursday!_

_I wonder if he knows that I am?_

_No the real question is - where the hell did he come from?_

_He's definitely not corpse corps, I'd know one of those things in a second, I've been killing 'em for almost half my life._

_Or, could he be one of those earlier experiments, a Schiff, like cousin Lulu (may she rest in peace)?_

_No, probably not. All the Schiff were Northern European and this guy is clearly Asian._

_And he couldn't be some new experiment; the US abandoned its chiropteran research after we blew up Kaho'olawe._

_I think he must be a real Chevalier. _

_But how is that even possible? All the Chevaliers are either dead or accounted for._

_Except…_

_Oh god, could it be Nathan?! We never figured out what happened to him…_

_Nonono, it couldn't be him. His general impression is completely different. And besides, he was totally checking me out yesterday. Me. A female._

_Nope. Definitely couldn't be Nathan._

_So, I guess that means – he must be a remnant of one of the ancient clans, someone who survived the wars that obaachan alluded to._

_Still, that doesn't necessarily mean that he's harmless, I mean, it seems like a pretty big coincidence that we'd just run into each other, like this._

_Hmm… I probably should report this to the Shield, and keep a safe distance until they can figure out what's up with him._

_I should…_

In terms of personality, there were very few differences between Aka and Ruka; both had learned their straight-forward assertiveness from Kai, and while both had inherited Riku's kind disposition, it seemed that only Ruka had received his precocious wisdom. Instead, Aka seemed to have her mother's insatiable, reckless curiosity.

_No, this is way too rare of an opportunity, and what do I need the Shield for? I can defend myself against one measly Chevalier. No problem._

She smiled to herself.

_Let's just… play this by ear._

"Hey Ken, toss me an Orion," Aka called out the bartender, and then turned to the man beside her. "This is the only place I can find that has 'em."

"And you?" the bartender called, to the newcomer.

"Um, same."

_Aww, how cute! _Aka thought.

The bartender handed them their drinks. "So, who's this?"

"This is Jonah, from work."

The bartender laughed. "Well, let me give you one word of advice, Jonah – don't let her hustle you into a drinking contest. She's a certifiable freak of nature."

"I couldn't have put it better myself," Aka laughed, took a drink, and then turned to her date. "I'm actually not a big drinker, it's just, I like to disprove stereotypes, and well, let's say that the ability to hold one's drink is a trait that runs in my family." _Chiropterans are immune to virtually all "poisons" except the blood of the sister, _she thought_._ "And I like this place, it's good for the homesickness."

She took another drink.

_Time to do a little intelligence gathering… but… he may not know what I am after all… better to keep my cards hidden until I know a little more about him… so I can't ask him directly._

"So, where is it you said you learned all those languages? Must have taken a _long_ time," she prodded.

_This is so exciting!_

"Yeah I guess," he answered, uncomfortably.

_Oh come on, give me a little more!_

"You must have studied quite a bit."

"Yeah, I guess."

She put her fists to her hips. "Okay, what's with the evasive answers?"

He squirmed on his stool. "Well, it just –kinda has to do with something that I don't usually bring up on first dates."

_Dingdingding! JACKPOT! _

"And I don't think you'll believe me," he added.

"Try me," she nudged encouragingly.

He sighed before he spoke. "The thing is – I don't know where, or how I learned those languages. I have no memory beyond the past six or so years."

"Ohhh, global retrograde amnesia," she said, sounding both pleased and pensive.

_How chiropteran of you!_

"You know about it?" His expression turned a little apprehensive. "You're not really a shrink are you?"

"Nonono, I just know about it because – let's say it's another condition that runs in my family. My aunt and grandma used to have it really bad."

"Oh, cool."

"So, let's have it out, what exactly happened, that you can remember?"

He hesitated again, but when he spoke, it seemed strikingly sincere. "I was found, floating in the middle of the ocean by a cargo ship on its way to Seattle. I had no i.d., nothing that could identify me, and I had, and still have, no idea how I got there, or even who I was. They hauled me onboard and took me with them, and then dropped me off with the authorities. I ended up in a psychiatric hospital for a few weeks, while doctors tried to – well they said they were trying to bring my memories back, but half the time I got the impression that they were just trying to get me to slip up, to admit that I was lying about everything."

_Man, there is no way in hell I'd believe you either, if you weren't of a species prone to that condition._

"Eventually they gave up and released me," he continued, "seeing as I wasn't a danger to anyone." He sighed again. "And then there were my troubles with immigration. I had no way to prove I was a citizen other than speaking English well, they really wanted to deport me, and they would have if they'd known where to send me." He paused. "But eventually I got all that shit straightened out, and came out here, to New York."

"Why New York?"

He ran his finger idly round the lip of his glass. "I don't know why, but I felt like I was supposed to go there, or maybe – meet someone there. It's not really a memory, more of a hunch, really. But in my position, a hunch is all you've got."

_Shit, I can be certain of one thing - this guy sure is… interesting._

"So you have no idea why you felt like you had to come here?"

"Well, I do have this _new_ theory, that maybe it has nothing to do with my past, but more a premonition about something in my future, someone that I'm supposed to meet." He looked up at her, eyes meeting hers, earnest and intense. "But it's really too early to say."

_Wow…_

_Maybe this calls for some more general questions…_

"So," she said abruptly, "You have a girlfriend? In my dating experience, that doesn't necessarily go without saying."

"No, not at the moment. I did, but - we broke up a few months ago."

"Might I ask what happened?"

_Always a good thing to find out, if you can._

"Well," he looked understandably uneasy, "I guess you could say, I was - too weird for her."

"Oh."

"What about you? You have a boyfriend?"

"Nah, I broke up a few months ago too."

"What happened?"

Akahana smiled slyly. "I guess you could say - he was too normal for me."

* * *

So, I wrote you a chapter… please write me a review!

Note: I know that the term "oriental" isn't politically correct when applied to people, but it would have been used in 1917.


	5. Diva Sitting

_A new chapter? Already?_

(Did I just read your mind?)

I should note that this chapter contains adult situations, and a brief bit of graphic gore.

Oh, and welcome to Flashback City!

* * *

The four of them, Freddie, Yuki, Diva and Solomon, now stood on the threshold of the airport security line, making ready to say their goodbyes.

Diva was looking a little misty-eyed, not so much because she anticipated missing her parents, as disappointment at not being allowed to go with them.

Yuki smiled sympathetically, hugging her daughter, and holding to her shoulders after pulling away. "I know this must bother you, at least a little, but keep in mind, ordinarily you get us all to yourself. It's only fair that Saya gets us for a week." Yuki then leaned in to whisper in her daughter's ear. "And if all goes as planned, we'll be bringing Saya back with us."

Diva's pouty countenance transformed into an expression of utter joy. "Really?!"

"Yes really."

Diva let out a squee of excitement.

"But don't get your hopes up too much, precious; it won't be easy to tear her away, but we'll do our best."

She kissed her daughter on the forehead.

Meanwhile, Freddie was having one last little chat with Solomon, several feet away, the background noise of the airport making their conversation sufficiently private.

"The only _real _rule is that she is not allowed to sing in front of humans. Period. You know better than I, that tainted Cinque Fleches products stayed in circulation for quite a while, and the Red Shield's antidote only suppresses the spontaneous transformations, not the vocal-induced ones. There's still a good number of people out there who would turn into monsters if they heard her."

"So she's not allowed to sing her song when company is over?"

"She's not allowed to sing _anything _in front of company. Your cronies never quite figured out exactly what triggered the transformation."

"Believe me Nathan, we were fully aware that her song was the catalyst."

"You're thinking about it too simplistically, but it's understandable, you're not a musician. Your minions never bothered to research exactly how much of the song needed to be heard, and as you may or may not be aware, most songs are created from the same set of notes. For example, if Diva's song somewhere featured an A, and then a Bb, it's possible that every other song with that same interval would also result in a slobbering monster. Anyway, in this case, I'd rather be safe than sorry," Freddie declared. "Oh, and she's not allowed to have lots of people over while we're gone, only Max and Wes."

_Both her friends are boys?_

_I wonder if she's involved with either of them…_

For some reason, the notion of Diva having a boyfriend was very, very intriguing.

"So, that's about it, Solomon. You hardly have to do anything, really, just drive her to piano practice on Thursday, oh, and drive her to church, if she wants to go, but I doubt she will."

"You take her to church?" Solomon asked doubtfully. "I've heard you rail on half the organized religions I've ever heard of."

"Well, I think most would agree that religion can be a useful tool with which to teach people how to behave properly." He gestured to Diva. "We've _raised _her as a Buddhist."

"How trendy of you," Solomon commented.

"Not really. Yuki and I simply decided that it was the ideal choice for Diva, seeing as it emphasizes unconditional non-violence and respect for lower life-forms."

"Such as humans, in this case?"

"You're catching on." He took a step closer, and lowering his voice, but still sounding entirely cheerful. "Oh, and let me make one thing perfectly clear. Should you take it into your head to do anything violent for the sake of impressing your estranged baby-momma, you'd best forget it. I promise you, Solomon, if you harm a hair on Diva's head, you'll quickly find yourself chained up and bleeding to death in my basement again, and this time, instead of springing you, I'll just keep on taunting you until you finally expire."

Solomon laughed. "You know me too well, Nathan. That really would be my last choice as a mode of death. And actually, the actions you warned me against hadn't even crossed my mind."

"As a matter of fact I should add - that will also be you're fate if _any_ harm comes to her while we're gone, whether by your hand or not. So you'd best make sure she's safe."

"Duly noted," Solomon replied casually.

Freddie and Yuki moved toward the security line.

"See you in a few days precious!" Yuki called out.

"Oh, and Solomon," Freddie hollered, "one more thing – I know it'll be a hard habit to break, but please try not to wreck up my house again!"

The two ancient chiropterans stepped into the line, beginning a telepathic conversation.

"_Freddie, Are you sure this is a good idea, leaving them alone together?"_

"_Oh, don't worry. He won't hurt her."_

"_Didn't he try to kill her once, though?"_

"Try _is not the word I would use. I saw the whole thing; it was more like a half-hearted feeble attempt before completely losing his nerve. It seriously was one of the most pathetic things I've ever seen. Even then, when she was crazy and evil and it might have actually mattered to Saya, he couldn't bring himself to hurt her. "_

"_That's good to know, but not what I was actually asking. I mean, are you sure this is the right time to encourage them to pair up?"_

"_Oh, I think so."_

"_But, do you think he'll actually go for her? I mean, he's a sophisticated man of the world or whatever, and she's just a silly teenager. Isn't she a little young for him, figuratively speaking?"_

Freddie laughed out loud.

"_Oh, my love, your naiveté is adorable!"_

"Shut up!" she snapped irritably, earning a few stares.

"_Sorry. But it really is cute. Come to think of it, it sort of proves my point. Most men rather like to feel smarter or more mature, or in some way superior to their woman, at least occasionally."_

"_Good thing _you're_ not like that," _she thought at him, with a sarcastic glare. "_Or I might just have to prove how superior I am."_

"_Yes, good thing. I know perfectly well that I'm no match for you."_

Yuki shot him a smug smile, her nose raised in the air.

"_But still, about Diva and Solomon – even if he does go for her, I'm not sure I particularly want her dating him. I mean, once you get to know him, the guy is a bit of a douche."_

"_Yes, and she's a bit of a bitch. They're perfect for each other! And anyway, if there's any woman in the world who has the slightest chance of being with Solomon without ending up stuck to the bottom of his shoe, it's a woman that he's biologically programmed to obey."_

* * *

And now he was alone with this strange, new Diva, driving back from the airport.

Solomon wasn't usually an unsociable man, but the shock of finding his ex-Queen alive was still fairly fresh.

_What should_ _I say to her?_

"I really like your car," she commented, clearly trying to start a conversation.

"Thank you."

"I like convertibles, I feel so unrestricted. Regular cars make me feel all boxed in, and kind of uncomfortable." She began to fidget with her hair. "I'm not claustrophobic or anything," she quickly added, "I just – don't like it."

_You never did. That's why I had that glass conservatory built on the top of the Cinque Fleches building. So you could be outdoors without the inherent risks of letting you run around freely._

A few exits passed before she spoke again.

"So, um, you must know my sister pretty well."

_Only in the biblical sense, _he thought sullenly.

"Reasonably, yes."

"So, is she mad at me, or something?"

Now there was a tough question. His brother had goaded him into swearing he wouldn't reveal anything about Diva's past to her, or to contradict any of the sugar-coated half-truths she had been fed. What was more, doing so wouldn't exactly be in Solomon's best interest anyway, lest she find out that he had betrayed and tried to kill her, at one point.

"I don't really know. We actually don't speak much, these days."

"But you're her Chevalier," she said, puzzled.

A short, uncomfortable silence.

"Okay Solomon, I'm just gonna out and ask, what _is_ the deal between you and my sister?"

"I don't really know what you mean," he lied.

"I mean, are you two, you know…"

He couldn't play dumb forever.

"Your sister is married, and not to me," he answered, managing to maintain a considerable degree of poise.

The speedometer began to rise.

Diva laughed. "What's that supposed to prove? It's not like no one's ever cheated on their husband before."

"Well, your sister hasn't, at least not to my knowledge."

She jumped to the next most obvious conclusion.

"So are you ex's or something?"

"No."

_Technically, we were never really in a relationship. She never ceased to be Haji's._

The speedometer continued to climb.

Diva looked at him curiously. "I don't get it, if you two were never _together_, then why did she make you her Chevalier?"

An even tougher question; he took more than a moment to form his response.

"It was a long time ago. Your sister needed my help, so I became her Chevalier."

Diva still didn't quite look convinced.

"Then how did you get caught up in this family, in the first place? How did you get into the position to be made a Chevalier?"

_Sometimes, I wonder that myself._

…

It was in 1907, at his father's funeral reception. Solomon sat, alone on the stairwell, overhearing the entire conversation between his late father's employer and widow. He peaked over the doorway, listening silently, hoping to overhear some kind of explanation for his father's mysterious death.

"Please calm yourself, Madame-"

That was the first time he remembered hearing that cold, self-assured baritone, that voice that he would eventually obey, and rarely question.

"Compensation or not, I still want to know how he died!"

It was somewhat strange to hear that woman so upset, not nearly as pleasurable as he would have anticipated. Solomon hated his stepmother even more than most teenagers. In his mind, he'd still thought of her as some classless dance-hall girl, even though he knew perfectly well that she never had been; the woman was actually his father's secretary at one point, and at the time, such a career generally indicated a relatively intelligent, empowered woman.

"I saw his body! It looked like he'd been mauled by a wild animal!" she continued to howl.

"What an astute observation, you are clearly a very perceptive woman, so I will tell you the truth." Amshel stifled a chuckle. "As you know, I am a scientist, and your husband served as my lab assistant. We were performing an experiment on waking a – rare animal from hibernation, but the creature's reaction was – unexpectedly violent. I am very sorry, but it was unforeseeable. I take full responsibility, and that is why I have offered monetary compensation."

_What rare animal could it have been? _thought young Solomon.

The frantic woman's voice lowered a little. "Compensation? He was my husband, the father of my children. But I will accept it, for their sake, if nothing else."

_Yeah, I'm sure that's why._

Just then, Amshel's eyes met those of the boy, sulking in the stairwell.

"Speaking of his children, that boy over there, he's Bernard's son by his first wife, is he not?"

"Oh, Solomon? Yes."

"How old is he?"

"Sixteen."

_I'm fourteen, you lying whore._

"Really? I don't think I'd ever seen him before. He's growing into a very handsome young man."

"Yes," she said, but with a note of frustration.

"Might I enquire as to your plans for him?"

There was a long pause. "Well, you see… I don't think there's any way to keep sending him to that expensive school now, our income will be stretched thin as it is, even with your contribution and - I know it was important to Bernard, but to be completely honest, I can't justify bending over backwards for the boy."

"And why not?"

Another long pause. "I really have _tried_ with him, God knows I've tried, but it's just no use. I don't think he's ever said two words together to me. He really isn't a bad child, he's very polite and friendly to everyone else, but when it comes to me… if I only judged him on his conduct toward me, I'd say he was the most obstinate child that ever lived." She sighed. "I suppose he can't help that, he's so cold to me because he's angry at me for replacing his mother, and I have a feeling she went out of her way to poison him against me during her lifetime."

Solomon's hands formed into fists. _You had my bastard half-brother long before my mother died. You were my father's mistress, his company for when he was away in Paris… and you married him before my mother was cold in her grave._

Amshel was silent for a moment. "Then, if you look at it a certain way, his behavior isn't out of obstinacy - but loyalty."

"Call it whatever you want, that doesn't make it any easier to tolerate. It's one thing to grin and bear it, it's another thing to reward it by going into debt just to keep him in school, I have five other children to worry about. I've offered for him come live with us, but he's refused. Obstinate."

"What is to become of him then?"

"He's fairly educated; he could easily find work as a bookkeeper's apprentice or something."

"Yes, I suppose."

A few minutes later, his late father's employer joined him on the stair.

"So Solomon, your stepmother tells me that you hate her. Do you?" he asked casually.

"Yes, sir."

Solomon wasn't quite sure why he just out and said it, perhaps it was the emotional stress of losing a father, and pretending not to be upset inwardly, while pretending to be more upset outwardly.

"You're honest. I like that," the man said, stroking his moustache like some silent-movie villain. "Your stepmother also tells me that you'll have to quit school for lack of funds."

"Even if she offered to pay, I wouldn't accept it. Not from _her_."

"Hmm. Incorruptible. I like that too."

Young Solomon looked up at Amshel, unsure of what to make of all this.

"Solomon, I've been thinking – I do feel somewhat responsible for your father's death, and it sounds as if you won't be getting much benefit from the settlement I've made with your stepmother. So, I'd like to make it up to you. What would you say to - becoming my adopted brother?"

"Brother?"

"Yes, I don't want to _replace_ your father, you see. But if you were to become my brother, I would be happy to pay for your education, it would be no trouble, and I have many valuable connections that could help you with any career you choose."

"Brother-" he murmured.

…

Solomon prepared another honest, yet deceptive response.

"I was adopted into it, when my parents died."

A brief silence.

"Are you _sure _you were never _involved _with my sister?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

In principle, other than the fact that he hadn't always been Saya's Chevalier, Solomon wasn't really obligated to keep his romantic history with Saya a secret, but did so nonetheless, for reasons he himself didn't fully understand.

"Do you realize that you're driving like a total asshole?"

"Excuse me?"

"Do you realize that you're driving like a total asshole?" she repeated, pronouncing each syllable carefully. "You're going, like, thirty more than everyone else."

"No worries, I'm a very good driver. Been doing it for _years._"

"And that puts you above law and common courtesy?"

He didn't answer, but the needle began to gradually float back down to a more reasonable speed.

A few minutes went by, and it occurred to him that there was one crucial bit of information that his ancient brother had neglected to mention.

"Diva, might I ask exactly _what_ you've been told of your past?"

"Only that it's bad," she murmured, looking down, and fidgeting again, "that it had something to do with my Chevaliers, that they were - _cruel_ to me." She turned to face him. "But that strikes me as weird, I mean, I thought that Chevaliers were supposed to _worship_ their Queen. How could it have been possible for them to be so bad to me?"

_Again, I've wondered that myself._

…

His older brother was standing in his study, facing the fireplace.

"Amshel."

This was one of the few times when Solomon actually raised his voice to his big brother.

"Diva mentioned something earlier today, and I want to know if it's true," the soft voice demanded, almost threateningly.

Amshel turned to face him, calmly motioning for him to continue.

"Diva told me that some time ago; you kept her imprisoned in a stone tower, that she was there for years, without ever being allowed to leave. Do you deny this?"

"Why would I deny it?" Amshel asked, completely unmoved by his little brother's vehemence.

"How – how could you do that to her?! You, who claim that she is more precious to you than anything!"

Amshel stepped forward, looking down at his subordinate in such a way as to put him in his place.

"Solomon, you grew up in Aveyron, correct?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Then I suppose you must have heard of the _Wild Boy_."

"Yes," Solomon answered tentatively. "I don't see how this is relevant, but I've heard some stories. According to legend, he was raised by wolves, and consequently was never really able to adapt to human society."

"Correct," Amshel answered sternly. "I suppose, as a compassionate man, you would assert that for a child to be brought up in this way is a tragedy."

"I certainly would, all the more reason for me to outraged by your treatment of Diva. It's really no wonder that she is – the way she is!"

At that, Amshel struck him, an open-handed blow to the side of the face that was too brutal to really be called a slap.

"How dare you," Amshel growled, it was in no way a question. "How dare you accuse me of cruelty toward her. You let your self-righteousness stand in the way of reason. You completely misunderstand." His voice flattened out into to his usual stern tone. "However, you are correct, it is, in some measure, unethical to allow a child to be raised by animals. What you forget is that Diva is not human. To allow her to be raised by humans would be no better than allowing a human to be raised by wolves. Were she allowed to come in contact with humans during her upbringing, her pure, natural, beautiful chiropteran nature would have been tainted with humanity, furthermore, eliminating any chance of ever studing chiropterans in their natural state. More importantly, you have seen enough of the world to know something of human nature, what they fear above all – things they can't understand, and things that are more powerful than they – Diva is both of these. Keeping her in that tower was the only way to completely ensure her safety from torch-bearing mobs."

That deep commanding voice made his argument even more persuasive.

"I suppose – that makes sense," Solomon said thoughtfully. "But there's just one problem – if you truly believe that tower was the best place for her, then why did you let her out?"

"I didn't."

"If you didn't free her, then who did?"

Amshel gave that evil grin. "I think it's time that I told you about our - Great Enemy."

…

"As you said, I'm not to discuss it."

He half-expected her to argue, to demand to know more, but she only nodded.

A few more minutes passed.

"Hey Solomon, I don't mean to sound paranoid, but – I'm pretty sure that gray car is following us."

He looked up at the rearview mirror.

"Yes, I think you're right."

She looked at him interestedly – now she seemed to want an explanation. "So, do you know her, that lady?"

"She's my stalker."

"Your stalker – what is _she_ your ex-girlfriend or something?"

"No. She was the assistant to one of my subordinates at work. A few weeks ago she – well, let us say she came on to me rather strongly, and I politely, but distinctly made it clear that I wasn't interested. I assumed that would be the end of it, but shortly after that, my associate fired her, probably for reasons related the earlier incident." He glanced up at the mirror again. "So now she's taken to following me on and off for the past few weeks."

"Why haven't you called the police?"

"I generally consider that to be a last resort, and really, it hasn't been much of a problem until now - you see, she couldn't get past security at my building or office, and I always take a cab when I'm in town – but now that I'm in my car, she seems quite able to track me. I suspect she's put one of those gps buttons on it, somewhere."

"Oh, like those teeny little sticker-things they have in the grocery store checkout line, that're supposed to be for finding your keys, or tracking your wallet when it gets stolen?"

"That's what I'm guessing. Unfortunately, because they're so small, I probably won't find it."

"So what are you going to do?"

"For now, I'll just hope that she gets tired of it."

Rather ironic that he of all people should understand so little about stalkers.

"And after all, it's only a mild annoyance. What's the worst that could happen? What, is she going to shoot me?" he laughed.

She gave him that curious look again. "You're a pretty easy-going guy, aren't you?"

* * *

It was nearly ten when the two arrived home.

"Come on, there's someone I want you to meet! My baby!" she announced, beckoning before bounding up the stairs.

_It must be her pet, _he surmised, somewhat disinterestedly following her up to her room.

Diva was already standing there, hands behind her back when he arrived.

"This is my baby! Solomon, meet Vlad!"

Her hands came back around, her pet tarantula coming into view. "Vlad, this is Solomon."

Solomon actually took a small, but hasty step back, a startled frown on his face.

"Teehee, are you scared?!" she giggled, holding the spider out to him.

"No," he laughed, but still taking another step back. "I was just expecting something more along the lines of a cat, or something."

_Though, come to think of it, I'm not too surprised that she chose that thing as her pet._

Solomon could recall, many occations when he'd seen her squeal with joy upon encountering a house spider, that she would pick it up and play with it without fear, laughing with delight as she ripped its legs off, one by one.

"Why, are you a _cat person_?"

"I wouldn't say that. I do have a cat, but that's your dad's fault."

"My dad's fault?"

"He gave it to me a few years back, but I think it's more attached to my housekeeper than it is to me."

Diva ran her index finger over the furry thorax of her darling. "If you're _not_ scared, then you'll hold him," she goaded, offering him the arachnid.

"I think I'll pass."

"Aww! C'mon! Don't be such a wimp!"

For some reason, that statement rubbed him the wrong way. He held out his hand defiantly, but flinching quite noticeably when she placed the creature on his sleeve.

For a moment, he found himself transported back to one of his earliest surviving memories.

…

The little freckled, brassy-haired boy, no more than five or so, had found infantile employment in the front yard, chasing the chickens, and running away from the geese.

Somehow, he distinctly recalled that the country house, the one he shared with his mother, always smelled of paperwhites in spring. They grew in all the window boxes.

"Solomon!" called a soft, melodic voice. "Solomon, where are you, my little angel?!"

"Here, mother."

She stood in the doorway, her wild curls done up in what would now be called a _gibson-girl _style, wearing a pale pink apron over a costly satin dress, as if to make it clear that though she lived in the country cottage, she was not a farmer's wife. Her features were soft, feminine, almost doll-like, with ivory skin, and eyes the pale green of tarnished copper, all of which were passed on to her son. But, without a doubt, her most noticeable feature was her bright auburn hair. It was for this reason, though her real name was Sarah, she was known to everyone as "Capucine," being likened to red-orange nasturtium flowers.

She could have looked like a troll, and he would have thought her beautiful, she was his mother, but he also knew her to be a great beauty independent of his opinion. He'd often heard people say so.

She motioned for him to come in the house, leading him into the sitting room.

"You see him?" She pointed to the base of a stained-glass lamp, and the large black spider sitting beside it.

The little boy nodded.

"Will you get him for me, I'm too scared," she asked sweetly, nothing in her tone or countenance to suggest any peculiar amount of fear.

The boy bravely pulled out his handkerchief, and prepared for battle.

He could actually remember thinking to himself _I am the man of the house, when father is away._

Little Solomon gritted his teeth as he thrust his hand forward, smashing the wad of cloth down on top of the spider, and dragging it along the surface of the table, just to make sure the job was done.

"My hero!" his mother cried admiringly, rewarding the boy with a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek, as he attempted to catch his breath.

…

_Strange, what one remembers._

"Teeheehee, you are scared!"

"Scared isn't the word I would choose," he insisted through gritted teeth, "I think I'd be having a similar reaction if there was a piece of dung crawling up my arm."

"Hey!" she cried in mock fury, snatching her pet back, "how dare you talk about my baby that way!" She held the creature back out to him, this time about three inches from his face. "Now you apologize, right this minute. Look! Vlad's feelings are hurt!"

"I'm sorry Vlad," he managed to sound fairly sincere, "I believe I can honestly say that I've never met a handsomer spider."

"That's better!" she huffed victoriously, placing the tarantula back in its terrarium, and then throwing herself onto a nearby couch.

"I'm bored," she announced. "Tell me a story."

He smiled for a second; it was so _like _her.

_I suppose – she isn't really _completely_ different._

"A story?"

"Yeah, my dad always tells me stories about history and stuff, stuff he's seen. You're pretty old, aren't you?"

"Not nearly as old as your dad. I'm sure his repertoire is much better than mine, not to mention, I'd wager he's a much better storyteller."

"How about a war story. My dad mentioned you were a vet, which war was it?"

_Why am I not surprised that Nathan would choose to tell her that?_

Hearing it brought up so suddenly made him a little uneasy. "The Great War."

"Since when is war _great_?"

That got a little chuckle out of him. "I mean, the first world war."

He'd fought in the second one as well, but his participation was undeniably connected to Diva's past, thus his promise to his brother barred him from speaking of it. It went without saying that he couldn't bring up his participation in the war between the two Queens either.

"Diva, you wouldn't like it, it would be too disturbing."

"Are you kidding? You should hear some of the messed up stuff my dad tells me. Shit like that makes me glad to be a chiropteran, you know? Humans do bad things, but it has nothing to do with me, you know what I mean?"

"Strangely enough, I do – but I generally don't discuss the war."

"C'mon, I'll even get you started," she smiled almost wickedly, "how about - the first man you ever killed? That's a good jumping off point. You did kill someone, right?"

…

It was a near the end of the First Battle of the Marne, and it hadn't been long at all since he arrived at the front, his uniform was still presentable, face still cleanly shaven, hair still neatly trimmed. He, and the other new boys, stuck out amongst the seasoned _poilu._

He wasn't used to any of it yet, the stench, the mud, so often tinged with red, the screams of dying men, the jarring black humor…

His brigade was exploring a newly captured enemy trench in the aftermath of what would be the last major victory before the ensuing years of stalemate. Solomon took care to stay near the back of the line so as to be removed from any sudden action, telling himself that it wasn't out of fear so much as not really knowing what he was supposed to do. But at the same time, he also made a point of not being the last man in the line, lest he be called a coward.

He heard a voice from over the shoulders in front of him.

"Shit, this bastard's still breathin'." A pause, then the voice grew louder, more authoritarian. "Get one of the new kids up here."

"Which one?" someone asked.

"How about - the girly blond one!"

Everyone turned around and looked at Solomon, wasting no time in pushing him to the head of the column.

"See that poor bastard." His commander pointed to a body on the ground. "Finish him."

Indeed, the young German was still breathing, disgusting yellow vomit and a thin stream of blood streaming over his deep blue lips.

Solomon's only reaction to the order was to tighten his grip on his gun.

"What are you waiting for? Do it."

His hands shook as he reached into his bag for a new magazine.

"Don't waste a bullet, stupid!"

This wasn't anything like what he'd imagined while enlisting, not valiant face-to-face duels to protect women and children from those savage, murderous Germans. The enemy lying before him looked even younger than himself, defenseless and pathetic, left for dead in the dirt.

The French teenager pointed his bayonet at the dying enemy, but seemed paralyzed thereafter. At this point in his life, he hadn't yet learned how to separate himself from his own actions, to justify any means for any end.

"Come on," one of them leaned in to whisper. "C'mon, it's chlorine. The guy's sufferin', it's the decent thing to do."

That was Eugene. They had been fast friends over the past few days, since being crammed together in the back of a taxi, and they would become closer still.

"Shut up!" the officer shouted. "It's not a person, it's a German!" He turned back to the trembling blond teenager, grabbing him by the collar. "God dammit, you stick him or I swear to god I'll stick you, you little faggot!"

Solomon shut his eyes, thrusting the weapon forward. Even over the taunting of his comrades, he could hear the sickening gurgle of the blood erupting up around his bayonet.

But before he could open his eyes, the taunting had transformed in to a chorus of laughter.

His eyelids parted to the sight of his bayonet stuck in the dying man's thigh. He franticly jabbed it forward again, but by now, his nerves were so raw that there was no chance at any real accuracy; the next stab was in the shoulder, then the arm, then the hip. By the time he managed to hit the man in any fatal way, his comrades had laughed themselves into tears.

He was not yet used to their dark, gallows humor, but Solomon too managed to produce a smile and guffaw, if only to make it seem that his tears of remorse and humiliation were from the same source as theirs. He did a good job of it too, of putting up that front, and would get still better to the point where he would eventually convince himself of his indifference just as thoroughly as he did his brothers in arms.

Contrary to what his comrades must have initially expected, he would eventually become known as the worst, or as the case generally was, the best cold-blooded killer amongst them.

…

Solomon's face formed into an unbecomingly icy expression. "I never speak of the war, Diva. Never."

"You're no fun!" she whined.

"Well, it's just about time for bed," he added, regaining his usual temperate tone for the most part. "I wouldn't want to give you nightmares."

It would soon prove somewhat ironic that those were the words he left her with.

* * *

Diva smashed the window, wounds from the broken glass closing up before her feet hit the stairs at the front entrance of the chateau, amongst the crowd of elegantly dressed guests.

Everyone was staring at her, emitting various gasps and _good god!'s _and_ my word!'s_

She even heard one of them say "Isn't that Goldschmidt's ward, that strange girl?"

As she stood there, she felt as if there was something she was supposed to be doing – and then began to sing.

A grey haired, mustached old man pushed his way through the crowd.

He took one look at her, and whispered to himself, "Good god! How did she get out?!" And then shouted at the top of his lungs, "She's extremely dangerous, run, now, run! Run, I say!"

And then they began to flee, and she stopped singing, seized by one utterly gripping urge, the compulsion of a predator.

To give chase.

Again and again, she pounced, biting and feeding with such ravenous force as to drain the victim in a single slurp, and moving on to the next person with such blurred speed that not a one got more than a few dozen yards away. By the time she'd dispatched the party guests, the blaze was rapidly engulfing the house, sending any remaining servants running outside, to Diva's waiting fangs.

She continued long after physical satiation, it might have seemed that she was killing without any reason, but this was not so. Each and every victim was like a string before a cat, who knows perfectly well that the string is not a mouse. It must attack. It has no choice. It was the natural instinct of a beast of prey, that unlike her sister, she'd never been taught to control.

By dusk, they all lay dead on the pavement, all except one. An old man knelt beside one of the victims, turning to look at the killer as he slowly rose to his feet. She hadn't attacked him for the simple reason that he had not fled. This in itself piqued her curiosity, and even as she approached, still he didn't move.

He just stood there, staring at her, his expression dismayed but entirely serene, like a condemned man who had accepted that death was not only his fate, but his just dessert.

"Go ahead. Kill me."

"Why?" she asked curiously.

"Because I cannot kill you."

It seemed like a reasonable request, she felt as if she might as well, if only to remove this confusing anomaly, like being stuffed to the brim, but eating the last morsel just to clean your plate.

She was pleased by how he finally flinched when she leapt forward, jerking the frail body to her, sinking her fangs into the loose wrinkled skin of his neck.

But from over the old man's shoulder, she caught sight of yet another living creature, standing at the base of the front step.

Diva tossed the nearly dead old man aside, a drop of blood escaping her mouth as her lips parted in a diverted smile.

"Saya!"

* * *

Solomon was passing the small hours of the morning, hunched over a mass of paperwork, spread out on the kitchen table, suit jacket draped over a chair. Not too different from the way he spent most of his nights these days.

But it was around 2:30 when he noted something rather strange was happening to him. It began without any warning at all - most noticeable was his racing heart, accompanied by an odd, general sense of dread.

He laughed at himself and shook it off. _God, if I didn't know better, I'd say I was having a panic attack._

That was when he heard a shriek from upstairs.

Without a second, or even a first thought, before he even realized what he was doing, before it even consciously occurred to him that the scream had come from Diva, he had already flown up the stairs and burst into her bedroom.

Through the darkness, he could see her huddled back up against the headboard, cowering like a cornered animal, shaking and hyperventilating, clearly terrified.

And weeping.

There was something intensely surreal about seeing her cry. In all the years he'd previously known her, only once had he seen her afraid, and he had never seen her cry – not at the death of one of her own knights, not when she talked about the abuse she'd suffered, and not when he told her that he was leaving her for her sister.

Solomon looked about the room; nothing seemed at all amiss. It was quite clear that this distress had been caused by a bad dream, or perhaps a night terror.

His next action was entirely natural, an instinct more human than chiropteran. Solomon crawled onto the bed, so as to reach her, placing one hand comfortingly on her shoulder. Only then did she notice he was there, but instead of being further frightened, she literally threw herself into his arms, clinging to his waist in a desperate embrace.

However cute she found him, it was a rather strange thing to do to someone who was a virtual stranger, at least according to her conscious mind.

Perhaps deep down, she still knew that this was a man who was supposed to protect her.

His arms encircled her in response, one hand lightly patting her back as if she were a baby, whispering various generic words of comfort.

"It's all right. Just a dream. You're alright."

He couldn't quite explain it, even to himself, but there was something about this situation that was intensely moving, on the very deepest of levels. It wasn't that he was getting a hug from Diva; she'd been known to do that from time to time in the past. But the way she was clinging to him, as if for security as much as for comfort, as if she were only safe in his arms.

It made him feel so…

… needed.

It was something he hadn't experienced in quite a long time, the sensation of being powerful, and yet nurturing. It seemed in some way related to how he'd felt holding Rose or Lis when they were smaller, completely helpless.

On the other hand, the warmth of her body, the feeling of her lips obliviously brushing against his neck, of her unbound breasts through the thin fabric of his shirt and her nightgown, heaving with each breath – was creating sensations that were decidedly non-parental.

When he became cognizant of this, he found himself pulling away just slightly in such a way as to make the subtle stirring in his trousers less noticeable.

Since first coming into her presence, he'd found himself drawn to all sorts of distant recollections, many having nothing to do with her, but now, these impure thoughts combined with the rare sight of her looking frightened, made him think of one very particular night, long ago.

…

Amshel had decided that they'd had enough time to get to know each other.

"Solomon," he sounded as grim and cold as ever, unlocking the door just in front of them, "I expect results."

The door opened to Diva's apartments. He couldn't see her from where he was standing, but having been a Chevalier for nearly two months, he had learned to sense her presence. Solomon held his position in the doorway for a moment, attempting to gather his nerves, but found himself shoved inside by his impatient brother.

The testy slam of the door behind him was followed by a mechanical click, indicating that they were now locked in.

He proceeded slowly down the short hallway, finally coming to the bedroom.

Everything about the place was sensual: walls lined in velvet, a fur rug on the floor, silken shag hanging from the lampshades. She seemed to like things like that, interesting textures.

"Solomon!" a beautiful voice called excitedly from behind the bed curtains, a matching beautiful face then appearing between them.

Solomon bowed.

"Good evening Diva."

She pulled back the curtains, and beckoned to him.

He felt his heart begin to race as he climbed into bed.

"So, Amshel says that you're going to help me make a baby."

He smiled admiringly, even at such an awkward statement. It was so easy to misinterpret even her most childish declarations as flirtatious repartee.

"Yes, if that is what you wish."

"I do wish that. I want to have a baby."

He couldn't pretend that he wasn't glad to hear it.

With that, Solomon expected her to scoot closer, or put her hand on his, or give some kind of physical invitation. But she just sat there, watching him expectantly, as if she thought he would to pull out a block of wood, and start whittling it into a child.

"Diva, have you ever – tried to make a baby before?"

"Yes," she pouted, "but it didn't work."

He felt a brief pang of jealousy for whoever it was that had touched his pure, perfect Diva. Looking back, she probably had been referring to some imaginative experiment with her dolls.

"I want a baby. And I want it now," she demanded, in that perpetually seductive voice of hers. It was impossible not to be turned on by the idea that she was just as impatient to get things started as he was.

He moved in for kiss, desperate to taste those lips as he'd coveted for the past two months, and when they finally touched, he found them just as perfect as they had been in his dreams, the silken texture of freshly plucked rose petals, but with the heat of all the passion he knew they could bestow.

He couldn't have been more disappointed when she scooted away.

"I don't want kisses. Let's just make the baby now."

He had to admit, the idea of making love to her without kissing her did seem a little – detached, but he was certainly willing to give it a try.

Solomon began to unbutton his shirt.

"Why are you taking off your clothes?" she asked curiously.

"Would you rather I didn't?"

"Yes, leave them on. I like your white suit."

Kinky as it sounded, again, it wasn't quite what he had in mind.

He reached for the clasp on the front of her nightgown, but found his hand instantly swatted away, clearly she had no idea of becoming undressed either.

"Let's make the baby now," she repeated impatiently.

To do this, without the slightest inspiration other than her lovely presence – it probably wouldn't have been possible, were he not so young and in love.

She took on that inquisitive look again while his hands slid under her nightgown, parting her legs, and unbuttoning his trousers.

"Are you sure about this, Diva? Are you sure you don't want me to -"

"Just make the baby."

He bit his lip as he slowly leaned in, but just at the moment of ultimate anticipation, when he was so close, he could feel the heat radiating off her naked sex, her face took on an expression of alarm, and she kicked him in the stomach so forcefully as to send him flying across the room.

Solomon sat up from his new position, crumpled up against the wall, groaning as he shifted his shoulders, and rubbed his neck.

Even so, he couldn't bring himself to be upset with her, still gripped by the delirium of young love and instinctual devotion. But still, her behavior was starting to strike him as strange, beyond what could be explained by her usual sprightly eccentricity.

"I don't want to do it _that_ way!" she cried, voice- furious and face fearful. "I want to do it a different way. The _other_ way."

"Alright," he said, understanding, though a layer of patience had clearly worn away, as he crawled back into the bed. "I'm going to need you to – turn over."

She flashed him a hopeful smile and complied. But again, just as he was about to make contact, he found himself flying across the room.

Thinking back on the moment, he also recalled something Nathan had said, nearly a century later, upon hearing a brief account of the failed seduction.

_Everyone knows that creatures have the instinct to mate, and that this instinct can be very hard to control. But what many forget, is that a creature can also have the instinct _not _to mate, and I'd imagine that this played a role in her rejecting you, and the others. Not only was love a foreign concept to her, but from an evolutionary perspective, it makes perfect sense that her instincts would tell her that mating with you would not just be unsuccessful, but would destroy her chances of bearing future offspring – and we both know that Diva has always_ _been _very _in touch with her instincts._

"No! I said I don't want to make a baby that way! I don't want your - body to touch me there!"

Now it was becoming quite clear to him that at very least, there had been some kind of miscommunication.

"Diva," he said, pushing himself to his feet, "that _is _how you make a baby. Did you not know that?"

"Well – isn't there another way?!" she demanded.

He studied her for quite a while, contemplating what had just happened. In some way, that was the moment, when he first began to realize that his dearest's peculiarities might go beyond the bounds of psychological normalcy, that perhaps, when she acted like a child, she wasn't just trying to be cute for him, that her general disregard for social conventions might not be out of any free-minded intellectual principle.

How like Solomon, to decide that a woman was crazy, because she didn't want to sleep with him.

Only in this case, he happened to be completely right.

"I did know about making a baby that way, but Amshel said that it would be _different_ with you, that I would _have fun _making babies with you, that I would _like _your way." She crossed her arms, showing all the frustration and disappointment he was currently hiding. "But I want to have a baby. I want to be a mommy, to have a baby who will love me. That's what babies do, don't they?"

Her expression abruptly changed from chagrin, to that fearful one from before, whimpering as she spoke. "But Amshel said that we can't come out until we've made the baby. He'll keep me – locked in here."

"Yes, that does present a problem." Solomon absentmindedly pinched his lower lip between his fingers while considering potential solutions to this predicament.

"I have an idea."

"What?" she asked encouragingly.

"We can make him _think _that we've - made the baby." With that, he stood, and walked toward the other end of her apartment.

"Where are you going?

"To the bathroom. I'll be back in a few minutes."

…

Thinking back on it, it was actually kind of funny, in some sick way.

Diva continued to cry against him for a few whole minutes before she attempted to speak, saying the same thing again and again, still so upset that it was almost indecipherable.

"It wasn't me it wasn't me it wasn't me…"

Her fingers curled around a handful of his shirt.

"I wouldn't do that. I wouldn't…"

"Shhh, I know you wouldn't," he soothed, "it's alright, Diva."

"I think I've had that dream a bunch of times before, but I only remembered tiny little bits of it, just that there was a fire and Saya was mad at me, but this time, I remember everything so clearly, so horribly…"

She sniffed and looked up at him, seeming to regain control over herself, to some degree. "When _normal_ people have nightmares, they dream that someone's trying to hurt _them. _But I…"

"Just a dream," he repeated, even though he had not only surmised that her nightmare was probably based on her latent past, but also thought, judging by the few details she'd provided, that it sounded similar to accounts he'd heard of Diva's initial escape in Bordeaux.

She sniffed again and finally pulled away, looking bashfully at the floor. "I'm really sorry to bother you."

"It's really no trouble, Chevaliers don't sleep, you know."

"Yeah but still -" she scooted away a little more, removing her hands from him. "You can go back to – whatever you were doing, I'm alright now."

"I don't think that's true," he said with his signature, sanguine air.

"Why?"

"Because I can hear that your heart's racing."

She turned away, attempting to conceal the blush blooming on her cheeks. "Well – there is a man in my bed."

He fought off the fleeting urge to give her something to _really_ blush about.

"I'm sorry, I hadn't thought of it that way," he chuckled. "I'll go now."

Her lips parted and she drew in a slight breath, as if she were going to say something. For a moment, he thought she would ask him to stay, but no.

As he left, he found himself thinking one thing.

_She's so – vulnerable._

* * *

Oh, and do please review! It really does make my day (and makes me want to crank out the chapters)!

Note: At one point in this chapter, I used a word that I strongly disapprove of. I assume you know which one I mean, it starts with an "F" but has more than four letters. This was used for dramatic effect and shock-value, I in no way condone its use in conversation.


	6. Christmas Present

Xmas chapter!!!

Contains strong language, and a brief bit of violence... like any good holiday tale, lol.

* * *

It was piano-practice night, and fairly late by the time she emerged from the building where she'd been dropped off.

"Solomon, did you wait in your car this whole time?"

"Yes."

_I was actually somewhat enjoying listening to you play._

"You should have totally come up. Tom's husband made some killer guacamole!"

"My loss, I suppose," he humored her. "Shall we?"

She put on her seatbelt, and the two were on their way.

"Solomon, what time is it?"

"About three to ten, why?"

When he turned to her, she had a very familiar look on her face – the one which generally accompanied mischief.

"Turn right, up here!"

"Why?"

"Just do it!" she commanded.

And he obeyed.

"And a left. And another right… and stop here!"

They were now in fairly crowded parking lot. Diva leaned over his lap, pressing a button, and making the roof of the car disappear.

"Diva, what are we doing here?"

She kept on smiling. "Just wait a few more seconds!"

Sure enough, a moment after she said it, the air pulsed with an intense boom, a bright column of white sparks rising up from the other side of the street, then flying overhead.

The unexpected spectacle had an odd effect on Solomon.

…

The only thing worse than being cold is being wet and cold. They were all huddled together, trying to sleep. There is a peculiar closeness that develops between people who routinely face death together.

The sound of a shell shook them awake, the pre-dawn darkness briefly illuminated by a flare.

"What gives?" someone asked.

"Dunno."

"You smell that?" whispered Solomon.

"Smells like a hayloft," Eugene muttered.

"Masks on, ladies!" the officer roared.

Groaning and shaking off sleep, some flicking away cigarettes, the soldiers donned their gas masks. All except one - the young blond man, now known throughout the unit for his cool nerves.

"Shit!"

"What?" came Eugene's muffled voice.

"My motherfucking mask! I left it right fucking here!" young Solomon shouted, patting the space behind an empty munitions crate. It should also be kept in mind that in a single-sex environment, men tend to swear quite a bit.

He was fairly sure that someone else had taken it. Not that he really blamed them, Solomon knew that in life-or-death moments like these, details like _whose mask is this _tended to be forgotten. Whichever one of his comrades had taken it, they'd probably done so unconsciously.

That also meant that whoever had taken it, had left their own sitting somewhere, unused. But in the near pitch-blackness, there was little or no chance of finding something unless one already knew where it was.

"Piss on a rag and put it over your mouth!" someone offered

"That doesn't work with this new shit!" said Eugene. The young man slapped his half-panicked friend on the shoulder. "You want mine, Sol?"

"Fuck no!" Solomon laughed, subtly gulping back his distress.

Meanwhile he could overhear two of the officer's convening.

"The North way's completely flooded, and the South-way's caved in so bad, it won't do us much good."

"Well then," the sergeant declared impressively, "I say we charge."

The whole trench went silent, save the distant sound of shellings.

"What are you kids looking at?" he bellowed. "Get to it."

Solomon and Eugene exchanged glances that basically amounted to _nice knowing you_.

"Find your mask, Sol. We'll save a few Germans for ya."

With that, Eugene slapped him on the side of the arm, and began scurrying up the side of the trench, along with the others.

Solomon only spent a few seconds more, palming around in the dark.

_If there's one thing I've learned in the past few months, it's that "charge" is basically a synonym for death. The hell do I need my mask for?_

He held his breath as he began to climb his way up the muddy wall, now badly eroded from his comrade's feet, the rising gas stinging his eyes.

Young Solomon's head peaked up over the edge of the surface, just in time to see his brothers-in-arms simultaneously ripped apart by the first burst of machinegun fire.

Even as he was trying to hold his breath, he couldn't help gasping deeply at that horrifying sight.

He clawed desperately at the mud, trying to pull himself the rest of the way up onto the ground. In that moment, the only fear he had was of being found dead, crumpled up at the bottom of the trench, while the other's would be found heroically strewn across No Man's Land.

But with that gasp, he'd taken in more than just senseless carnage. Half his body laying on the surface, while his legs dangled over the side of the trench, he passed out in that very spot, probably more from the raw trauma than from the gas.

That in itself was what saved his life. His face ended up lying higher than the heavy, ground-hugging gas, ensuring that his exposure was non-fatal, and his body left at that awkward angle, made it hard for any enemy to notice that he was still breathing. Thus, he was left in peace, like his dead brothers.

The next thing he remembered, he was laying in the back of a horse-drawn wagon, with a young medic sitting next to him.

"Don't try'n talk. Your throat's messed up," he said in a thick British accent.

Solomon probably wouldn't have complied if not for the burning pain that made the medic's point. Instead, he pointed to the emblem on his uniform, the one that indicated his unit.

The young Brit seemed to understand exactly what he was asking. "Sorry, but no. By the time we got there, everyone was stone dead, 'cept for you and one other French fella. But 'e was bad off, and died about three miles back," he said solemnly, gesturing to a cloth draped form, lying just beside the two of them.

Seized by morbid curiosity, Solomon lifted up the sheet just enough to see the face, then grimaced and dropped it.

"'e a mate a' yours?"

Solomon nodded.

"I'm real sorry. Even if we got 'im to the dressing station, I don't think we could 'a done anythin'." The young medic shook his head. "Worst thing about this war, if ya ask me. We got all sorts a' new ways for tearin' a body apart, but we haven't learned a damn thing 'bout puttin' 'em back together."

…

Diva laughed in delight. "See? Fireworks, from the amusement park! They always do 'em at ten."

She turned to her companion, apparently expecting to find him laughing too, but found him white as a ghost, and staring vacantly at nothing.

"Solomon?"

He jumped in his seat, and turned to her suddenly, as if surprised to see her there.

"Solomon, are you okay?"

His face twitched into a smile. "Fine."

"Are you sure?" she asked skeptically.

"Yes, just startled me a little," he mustered a laugh.

Her eyes narrowed. "Are you sure you're okay? Seemed like you kinda checked out for a second there."

"Completely -" he was cut off when she leaned over his lap again, giggling. Solomon's body went rigid with suspense as she lowered her head, and put her ear to his chest.

"Teehee – I don't think so," she tittered teasingly. "Now _I_ can hear your heart racing!"

He smirked, in that moment; he seemed to regain his charisma. "Well, I _am_ in a parked car with a woman."

With that, she instantly straightened, and scrambled back to her seat, bursts of colorful light illuminating her reddened cheeks.

He chuckled softly at her reaction.

"Shut up," she snorted, starting to laugh herself.

* * *

Akahana's fingers curled around their opposite shoulders. "Brr! It's freezing _balls_ out here!"

"Yeah, it really is," Jonah agreed.

For the past several days, they'd been spending quite a bit of time together, every lunch (which was actually dinner, due to the evening shift) and every coffee break, and had gotten into the habit of going out together after work, to the point that Aka carried around her spare helmet, if only to avoid being pulled over.

Exciting as it was to be around this mysterious young man, so far, she hadn't been able to find out anything more (at least about his chiropteraness) than she had a few days ago. At this point, she still had some doubts as to if he actually was a chiropteran, or just an odd human. Nevertheless, she was rather enjoying this high-stakes game of hers, trying to uncover his chiropteran identity, without overtly revealing her own.

"This is my first New York winter. I guess you're totally used to it, huh Jonah?."

"Ordinarily, I'd be freezing my ass off too, but for some reason, I don't feel that way tonight."

_Hmm. Imperviousness to cold is a symptom of blood deprivation – that or you're just hitting on me very sweetly._

"But wait, Red, doesn't it snow in Japan too?"

Aka laughed. "Not in Okinawa! If it ever snows there, it'll probably be because Hell froze over!"

"Oh."

She shivered and rubbed her shoulders again. "Well, I guess we'd better call it a night. It's too cold to hang out here, and Ken's is closed tonight."

"Um, yeah I guess… but – my roommate is having his butt-ugly girlfriend over tonight, and I promised I wouldn't be back until 2."

_Clever go!_

"Well then, Jonah, I guess we can't have you freezing to death out here, or have you forced to watch your roommate make out with his butt-ugly girlfriend. You wanna come hang out at my place? The heater's on a timer, so it should be nice and toasty by now."

"Are you sure you'd be cool with that?"

"Of course!" she began walking toward her bike, but then turned back around to face him. "But I should mention that there'll be no sex tonight. And should you decide not to take my word for it, please be warned that us Okinawans _invented _karate."

_The last few guys who tried to take things farther than I wanted, have woken up with broken noses in the dumpster behind my apartment._

He looked away bashfully. "Do I seem like the kind of guy who would try something like that?"

"No," she sang playfully, "I just don't want you to go home disappointed."

* * *

Solomon found himself strangely pleased by the discovery that of Diva's two close friends, one was a girl, and the other was pock-marked and plain. At this point, these silly teenagers struck him as nothing more than a harmless nuisance, in that Diva tended to ignore him when they were over. Still, watching her with them was of strange interest to him, as if he were an anthropologist, studying a primitive, foreign culture.

They were passing this particular afternoon playing soccer in the yard, Wes standing before a pair of trees, designated as goalposts, Diva and Max preparing to play offense. The weather was more than mild enough for this diversion, even in December; in terms of its more populated areas, winter never reaches California, and if it does, it's for three hours, in the middle of the night, in January.

Solomon was sitting on the porch nearby, pretending to work.

"You wanna play with us too, Solomon?"

"No, thank you," he called back, slightly pleased that she'd thought to ask.

Diva took off running with the ball, apparently before her friends were ready.

"Diva, wait up!" hollered Max, running after her. Within a minute, the two girls were laughing hysterically, chasing each other out in the adjacent orchard, well out of the appointed bounds, their friend left shrugging between the goalposts.

Solomon was watching quite intently.

_Completely different, and yet the same._

It made him think of when he used to play with her like that, how in the early days of their acquaintance, he was truly eager to play hide and seek with her, how he'd learned to use his chiropteran senses that way. Chasing games were usually her favorite, as he recalled; though curiously, she seemed to be just as fond of being pursued as being pursuer. Solomon, then still ignorant of her true nature, had interpreted this as a novel method of flirtation (which he rather enjoyed, being somewhat sick of the traditional flattery and feigned interest), that it was all a titillating metaphor for courtship, to chase and be chased.

During the time following his return from the war, all his mental energy had been devoted to the avoidance of thinking about anything but the career that he so desperately hoped would help him reclaim his humanity. It only took a few years for him to realize that this would likely be impossible, after witnessing - and doing - such inhuman things.

Ironically, it would be this desire to reclaim his own humanity, which would result in his permanently casting it off. And lured by the promise of atoning for his sins, he found himself in the presence of this miraculous girl – and suddenly, she was all that mattered.

She struck him as so wonderfully innocent, this girl who, unlike most people he knew at the time, seemed so untouched by the war, this girl for whom the world was an object of fascination, not of disgust, this girl who was so different from other women, who didn't ask veiled questions about his money, who didn't seem to be obsessed with her appearance, whose laugh always sounded completely sincere, instead of the forced coquettish giggles that had come to nauseate him.

She was – exactly what he needed.

Hard as it was to eventually accept that his perfect, innocent Diva was even more a cold-blooded killer than himself, that she was even more damaged by her past then he was, he still looked on those first few months of naive infatuation as the happiest of his adult life. Those bright days when a beautiful, sprightly young girl taught him how to enjoy life again, took him frolicking out in the woods when he otherwise would have been working, or sitting with his head between his hands.

Not too different from now.

Strangely enough, the notion of falling in love with this new Diva had already crossed his mind, but as with anyone still in recovery from a previous romantic disaster, he wasn't going to just let it happen without careful consideration.

The pros were obvious enough. Her face, voice and body were every bit as appealing as they had been in early in the previous century, and she still had that enchanting free spirit, fun-loving and childishly straightforward, but without that inconvenient tendency toward the wanton destruction of life and property. Additionally, she seemed to have this adolescent idealism that he actually somewhat enjoyed, if only because it was so _cute_.

There were definite cons too, not the least of which was Solomon's realization that a romance between them was almost without a doubt, exactly what Nathan wanted, that it was just part of his grand plot. To Solomon, who so resented being controlled, playing right into his brother's schemes seemed a rather undesirable prospect.

The fact that he was still technically sworn to Saya had relatively little bearing on this dilemma; in the past he had thoroughly proven himself entirely willing to go back on his word for the sake of love. There were other small problems too, such as that on paper, she was still seventeen, and thus underage.

Interestingly, the biggest contributor to his hesitation was that the lies about her past couldn't last forever. Whether it was tomorrow or in a hundred years, someone would eventually slip up or perhaps even tell her outright. There was nothing more discouraging then the knowledge that someday, he would have to look her in the eye, and explain that he had betrayed and tried to kill her, out of a foolhardy obsessive love for her twin-sister-arch-nemesis.

Furthermore, he couldn't quite tell if she was even remotely interested in him. It seemed rather counterintuitive, but it was her endearing tendency to blurt out whatever was on her mind that made it difficult for Solomon to determine exactly how she felt about him. She'd said many things to warrant suspicion, comments on how he was the best looking man in the restaurant and various other statements– things that if said by her sister, would have been interpreted as a declaration of love, but when said by the big-mouthed Diva, could have easily been just impartial, offhand nonsense.

_Again, the same, and yet completely different._

"Owww!"

Solomon shook himself out of his reverie to find that Diva was now sitting on the orchard floor, one hand covering her bleeding knee.

His reaction wasn't instantaneous this time. After all, in the past, such a trivial injury would have disappeared before he could even rush to her side. Still, it only took a moment for him to realize that this was no longer the case.

He jogged over to her, taking care not to go too fast in front of the humans.

She looked up at him when he arrived. "Oww" she repeated, this time in a blasé, conversational tone.

"That's a nasty scrape."

And then, without a word of warning or permission, she found herself supported in his arms, carried bridal-style back toward the house. Once the shock had worn off, Diva leaned past his shoulder, and shot a swaggering grin back at her friends.

"Maxine, Wesley," Solomon called out, calm but authoritative, "You know your way around the house, right?"

"Yeah."

"Can you go find some gauze and antiseptic?"

The two teenagers trotted past them, in the back door, while Solomon placed Diva on the bench where he'd been sitting earlier.

"You – didn't need to carry me."

"I know," he answered nonchalantly, still examining her wound.

"I wish – I could heal instantly like _real _chiropterans."

"Diva, you are a _real_ chiropteran."

"But I don't have any chiropteran powers. It's weird, sometimes I feel like I've got the short end of the stick, you know? I have to drink blood to stay healthy, but I can't do any cool stuff. It's like I have all the inconveniences and none of the benefits."

"You won't age. That's quite a gift in itself," he said reassuringly.

"Yeah, I guess." She looked down, and started fidgeting again, a sign he now knew to indicate that she was feeling uncomfortable, or was going to say something personal. "I don't know, it's just that, I'm definitely not a human, but I'm not a true chiropteran either. I don't – I feel like I don't know where I belong, you know?"

He looked up at her intensely, what she had said having just penetrated him to the very core.

"I certainly know what that's like. To not know where I belong."

"We're back!" Max announced, tossing a roll of bandage and a bottle of peroxide to Solomon.

Dressing her wounds felt truly bizarre, hearing her hiss of discomfort at the antiseptic, when he'd seen her get shot without batting an eyelash and bandaging that lingering scrape, when he'd seen injuries like that vanish on her skin like ripples in a pond.

"Thank you."

"No problem," he answered cheerfully, "I actually used to do this sort of thing for a living."

"Carrying girls around?"

Solomon laughed; it was obvious what her mind was still fixed on. "No, I was actually a medical doctor, at one time."

He stopped himself, realizing that he probably shouldn't have said that in front of her friends. He looked too young to be a CEO, let alone a CEO who used to be a doctor.

"I guess we should call it a day, huh?" said Max.

"Yeah, we can go hang in my room." Diva hopped up, and started off toward the aforementioned destination.

Solomon watched to see if she would motion for him to join them, but no such gesture appeared. Feeling ever-so-slightly left out, he set himself down on a couch at the foot of the stair, where he was in a good position to _accidentally _listen in on their conversation.

"So he's nice, ultra-good-looking, a billionaire _and_ he's a doctor? Girl, this guy is waaay to good to be true!" Max said, almost ominously.

"I agree Diva, _something's_ gotta be wrong with this guy."

Diva laughed dismissively. "Well, he _does_ drink human blood. Doesn't that exclude him from being _too _conventionally perfect?"

Solomon's head turned in their direction, brows furrowed.

_Did she just say what I thought she said?_

"True, true." Wes paused. "You know, for some reason, all this makes me think of that girly old book my mom likes."

"But hey," Max added, "him being – um, whatever you guys are called – probably means you have a good chance at him. Statistically speaking, people do tend to date within their racial group."

They laughed at that.

"Oh shit!" Diva exclaimed, distressed but hushed. "I bet he can totally hear us, chiropterans have freaky-good hearing!"

And with that, her bedroom door slammed shut.

_Damn._

Solomon stayed right there on the couch, lying in wait. He confrontined her as soon as her friends had gone.

"Diva, I apologize, but I did overhear something that made me suspect -"

"So you _were_ listening!"

"I'm sorry, but with these ears, it's fairly hard not to. But, correct me if I am wrong, but it certainly sounded as if you've told your friends _what we are_."

"Yeah, so what if I did?"

He stared at her in near disbelief that she could be so casual about such as serious mistake.

"Diva -" he hardly knew what to say, "How could you do something so – reckless?"

"What do you mean _reckless_?"

He shook his head. "God, I can't believe I even have to explain this to you – telling humans what we are is extremely dangerous, for all of us."

She gave that dismissive laugh again. "You make it sound like I'm shouting it from the rooftops! I only told my two best friends."

"But they _are _humans, and as such, have no stake in the preservation of our kind. It's dangerous enough letting them know that we exist at all, let alone trusting them with our identities. They are all of them, foolish, reckless and -"

"But they're my friends! I trust them! Max has known for almost two years, and actually, the hardest thing about telling her was getting her to believe me! Wes's only known for a few months, and he was kinda weird about it at first, but now he seems totally cool about it! I can trust them! Why are you making such a big deal out of this? Here, I thought you were _so _mellow!"

His tone became even more condescending. "Diva, think of it this way – they may be your friends now, but when school is over, chances are, you'll go your separate ways. In ten years, they probably won't be your best friends, but they _will_ still know your secret. Think about it in terms of what you stand to lose and they stand to gain. If they were to tell, they would get recognition, and probably money, but for you, and the rest of us –"

"That's where trust comes into the equation!" she exclaimed. "I trust my friends with my life, so why shouldn't I trust them with my species? Don't _you_ tell _your_ human friends?"

Solomon laughed uncomfortably. "Well, one of my lawyers knows, but I hardly think he counts, either as a friend or as a human."

"So your human friends don't know? How can you call someone a real friend if they don't even know the truth about you? Don't you _have_ any real friends?"

He didn't answer.

"You don't, do you?" she murmured in shock. "You don't have _any_ human friends."

It was getting surprisingly hard to maintain his usual countenance. "It sounds rather sad when you put it _that _way."

"But it is! You said yourself that you aren't really close to my sister or her husband, and you don't even seem to _like _my dad. You - you don't have any friends at all, do you?"

"Some people don't need friends," he returned, defensive.

_Who _is_ the last _real _friend I had?_

_Eugene?_

… _No. It was Karl._

"Bullshit! Everyone needs friends! No exceptions!" her tone was caught between self-righteousness and empathic sorrow, "If you don't have any friends, then who do you tell your secrets to?! Who makes you feel better when you're feeling crappy?! Who tells you you're awesome when you think you might not be?!"

That stare she gave him while waiting for an answer - somehow, it was as wounding as it was sympathetic.

"Don't look at me like that," he snapped, voice cracking almost imperceptibly.

"So – you _do_ have feelings…"

"I don't want your pity, Diva."

"It's not pity!" she insisted. "I don't quite remember the word, but it's not the same thing as pity!" Her voice softened, and she looked down, twiddling her fingers, "It just – made me think of the time when I didn't have any friends. I don't know if my dad told you, but when I first woke up from being dead, I didn't know _anything._ Not how to say please and thank you, not how to make a friend. When I first started high school, I didn't know anyone. I felt so isolated, I could be in a room full of people and still feel like I was completely alone… but then I started hanging out with Max, and later on, Wes, and eventually, I realized that no matter how weird you are, there's always someone out there who's just as weird as you."

* * *

It was a fairly small apartment, well-kept, walls adorned with various artifacts from her life back in Okinawa.

"Nice place you got here, Red."

"I know," she declared smugly.

"Hey, is that a real katana?" he asked, pointing to the sword mounted on the wall, "Or is it one of those comic-book store jobs?"

"Damn straight it's real!" She pulled it off the wall, drawing an inch of the blade. "See the hamon? The little stripe along the edge? This sword's probably the most expensive thing I own!"

_A gift from the Goldschmidt family, when they first asked _us_ to fight._

"Aren't there supposed to be two, then?"

"Only if you're a samurai!" she laughed.

_I'm not a knight. I'm a Queen._

"So, um, why do you keep it around? To fight off robbers or rapists or, um, creepy guys from work?"

_Hah! Like I need a sword to fight off robbers and rapists! Though I guess it might prove necessary should _you_ prove dangerous – but I could take you!_

"I keep it around – well kind of as a souvenir, from when I used to use it."

"You actually know how to use it, to fight with a katana?" He sounded rather impressed.

"Are you kidding? You're looking at a finalist for the prefectural tournament!" She pointed to a framed newspaper clipping on the wall, a picture of she, and her sister wearing identical smug grins, full kendo armor, and holding their helmets to their hips with one hand, and wooden swords with the other.

_We would have gone to the nationals, if they hadn't required blood testing for steroids… after all the shit that happened with mom's blood, there's no way I'm letting a drop of mine outta my sight, unless it's to Dr. Julia._

"Hey, you didn't tell me you had an identical twin," he said, upon examining the picture more closely.

_He doesn't know about Queen's having twins?_

"Not quite identical. You know, we actually fought each other in that match."

"Who won?"

"It was by such a close margin that the judges had to look at the high-speed camera footage to figure out who got that last hit in first. If it'd been a real sword fight, we'd have _both _been dead. But yeah, my big sister _technically_ won."

"Big sister? I thought you said you were twins -"

"Oh, well, that's just how it works in Japan. _Everything_ has to have a hierarchy," she teased.

By then, Aka had unsheathed the sword, and was cycling through a few iaido moves, Jonah watching in utter fascination.

"There's something very se – interesting about a woman with a sword." He stared at her a few seconds more. "But I do wonder, are you trying to scare me, Red?"

"No," she said innocently. "I'm trying to impress you. If I was trying to _scare_ you - I'd do this!"

She let loose an intimidating battle cry, and swung the blade at him, stopping it within a millimeter of his neck.

"Scary," he laughed nervously.

_Wait, I've got an idea!_

She flicked her wrist just slightly, so as to make a tiny, shallow cut on the side of his chin.

"Oh god! I'm sorry! Did I get you? I'm so sorry!"

She was actually a pretty good actress.

His hand flew up to cover the wound.

"No, I'm fine. You didn't get me."

_Liar! I totally did!_

"But I thought I did, let me see!"

He still held his hand to the side of his chin. "No really, you didn't cut me. Really."

"Then let me see!"

He stalled a few seconds more before removing his hand.

"See? Not a scratch," he assured her anxiously, slipping his hand into his pocket, most likely to wipe away the blood.

_It's irrefutable now! He is a chiropteran! And it also shows that he either doesn't know that I am, or he doesn't want me to know that he is! This is so exciting!_

Satisfied with her discovery, she sheathed her sword, and put it back up on the wall. "Now then, I'm gonna go use the little-samurai's room, and then I'll make us some tea. Be right back."

Once Aka had shut the bathroom door behind her, Jonah began to pace about the apartment, idly examining his surroundings.

Something on her desk caught his attention, a small box, glossy-black and inlaid with mother-of-pearl. Glancing back over his shoulder at the bathroom door, he lifted the lid, and was slightly startled by the tinkling melody that began.

"That song…" he whispered to himself.

Even from the bathroom, Akahana could hear him start to hum along with the tune.

* * *

So far, Christmas day was shaping up to be rather uneventful.

Diva walked into the room, and set a large paper bag on the table.

"Hey Solomon!"

He looked up from his paperwork. "Yes?"

"Once they get done with family dinner and church and stuff, me and Max and Wes are gonna go catch a movie. You wanna come?"

"I'd be happy just to drive you," he answered, thinking he'd deciphered what she was really asking.

"No, I mean, a lift would be nice, but I was wondering if you – wanted to actually come with us."

Just as he was about to feel a little flattered, he recalled their conversation from the previous day. "Diva, I told you, I don't want your pity," he said serenely.

"It has nothing to do with that!" she insisted. "It's just that – well, you see, Max has this huge secret crush on Wes, and I want to give her some time alone with him tonight – but if I go by myself, then I'll be the third wheel, and that's not a fun position to be in."

"I know all about _that_," Solomon muttered.

"But if you come with me, then it'll be easier to think of an excuse to leave them alone together. So what do you say?"

"Diva – god, how do I put this - much as I would like to help you, to be honest, I don't think I'd be a good choice."

"But why?"

"I don't think I would exactly fit in with _your _friends?"

"Why not? Sure, you look too old to go to our school," she took on that adorable thoughtful expression, "but I bet with a few adjustments, we could pass you off as a college guy, no one would think _that _was weird."

With that, she stepped forward, grabbed the collar of his blazer, pulled it from his shoulders, then yanking his shirt out from the waist of his pants.

She stepped back, and walked a few circles around him.

"No, that's not gonna be enough. We can't exactly have you wearing a suit. People'll expect you to park their cars for them."

Without another word, she ran out of the room, and returned a minute later with a wad of clothes, thrusting them out toward Solomon.

"Put these on!" she commanded.

He took hold of the bundle. "It reeks of Nathan!"

"Who the hell is Nathan? These are my dad's clothes. Don't worry, they're clean. Now put them on, I say! Here, I'll even turn around to give you some privacy!"

With a slight sigh, he complied, watching to see if she peeked while he was dressing.

"Done."

She turned around, and walked another circuit around the T-shirt/jean clad businessman.

"The pants are too long," he said bashfully.

"Perfect! Shit! You could totally pass for a _normal_ guy!"

"Clothes make the man," he recited sarcastically.

"Apparently!"

Satisfied with his appearance, Diva then returned her attention to the paper shopping bag she'd just brought in, pulling out some wrapping paper, and what he presumed to be gifts for her friends.

"I'm afraid I didn't get anything for you, Solomon. I had no idea what you'd like."

"No worries. I hadn't realized that you did Christmas in this family, your dad mentioned you were Buddhists."

"We just do the secular stuff, around here. It's _all_ about the presents."

Should I have bought you something?"

"It's not too late!" she teased.

"Well then," he said, playing along. "What _would_ you like?"

Diva put her fist to her chin, much in the manner of her dad. "How about – that kickass car of yours!"

Solomon narrowed his eyes, apparently considering it.

"Holy shit! Solomon, you didn't actually think I was serious, did you?!"

"Oh, well, I have another just like it, and I've been coveting the new '45 model, anyway."

"I was joking! Even if you really offered, I wouldn't accept it!"

"And why not?"

"Well – because - when a guy gives a girl a car, she's pretty much _required _to sleep with him."

"Is that so?" he chuckled.

"Yup. And I'd rather not get caught up in that," she paused, twirling a loose bit of wrapping ribbon round her finger, "No offense to you, or anything. It's just – when I do actually – do that, I don't want it to be because I felt like I had to, you know? I want it to be out of love - or at very least, rabid horniness."

They both laughed awkwardly.

* * *

Christmas at Omoro was celebrated American-style, for the most part, adhering to traditions started by the US-raised George Miyagusuku.

Saya, Haji and their little ones stood just outside the door of the pub, and the sign reading _closed for private party_.

Haji pinched the front of his own shirt, as if it were some strange foreign object. It was a brightly colored Okinawan-style aloha shirt, a gift from Kai the previous year. Needless to say, it couldn't have possibly looked more out of place.

"I'm sorry Haji, but you have to wear it, just for tonight. It was such a – thoughtful gift."

She opened the door, trying to look as happy as possible.

Just after Kai's usual "___Irasshaimase__,"_ they were approached by Freddie and Yuki.

"There's my little princesses!" Yuki exclaimed joyfully, bending over to hug Rose and Lis.

But the two little girls were now hiding behind their papa.

"Aww, they're shy, how adorable!" said Freddie.

In terms of guests, of course there was Kai and Mao, and there was their son George, visiting back from college, as well as David and Lewis. Julia, Dave and Ruka weren't present, being aboard the Red Shield's recreated ocean-liner headquarters on the other side of the world. Aka wasn't present either, still in New York.

Dinner was served and devoured with great praise to the chef, and they moved on to presents. Being the only children around, the focus was on Rose and Lis.

"These came in the mail a few weeks ago, he actually sent 'em straight here. Guess he know's what you guys do for Christmas," Kai explained to Saya, handing a pair of boxes to the little Queens.

Saya could tell these gifts were from Solomon by the fancy wrapping paper, which was hastily ripped away, and tossed to the floor, forgotten.

The first part of the gift – the dresses - were largely ignored by Rose and Lis, but they did seem at least slightly pleased with the second part.

It was a pair of porcelain dolls wearing dresses identical to those just provided, both with dark, plum-red hair, and of course, one with blue eyes, the other with brown.

Saya's private thoughts on the matter were actually well summed up by something Mao said out loud.

"Pretty dolls, but they may as well be made of glass! They can't even play with them! Jeez, I know the poor guy is _trying _but he still gives them the dumbest presents!"

Meanwhile, Yuki (followed by Freddie) joined Haji, standing quietly beside the tree.

"Haji, I've been meaning to ask – judging by the look she's had on her face all night, Saya seems a little out of spirits. She's humoring the children just fine, but somehow, I get the feeling that she's not having as good a time as she should be."

Freddie cut in, in a whisper. "Dear, the massacre in Vietnam occurred at Christmas time. That's what's bothering her, isn't it, Haji?"

"I suppose."

"I'm sure it's bothering you too, you're just so dreadfully good at hiding it.

Freddie was right.

For Haji, Christmas Day of 1972, started out as the happiest he'd experienced in decades, mainly due to the anticipation of soon seeing his beloved, knowing that they planned to wake her, later that night.

Early during that tragic evening, Haji could have been seen cheerfully churning out Christmas carols in that jungle hamlet, playing improvised cello accompaniment with the off-key, half-drunken singing of the servicemen, most of whom would be dead in a few hours.

Whatever high spirits he started the evening with, it would soon prove to be the most painful of his life.

"Tell me, Haji," Freddie stated inquisitively, "Your name, it's Muslim-Roma, isn't it? Is that how you were brought up?"

Haji nodded, again, Freddie was right, though, Haji's religious life was left behind with his birth family. Forward thinking as its master was, the Zoo (and indeed, society in general) wasn't exactly a portrait of religious tolerance.

"_Freddie,"_ Yuki projected her voice into her husband's mind. "_Are you sure we should tell Saya tonight? It sounds like the spirit of the season may not be as much of an ally as we'd hoped."_

"_Good point, my love. Perhaps we'd best wait until tomorrow."_

* * *

The movie had yet to start.

Considering Diva's plan to throw her two friends together, it was a little strange that Solomon was now alone with Wes. The two girls were now having a last minute pep-talk, in the guise of going to fetch some popcorn.

The boy casually leaned back in his seat, propping his feet up on the one in front of him. "So, you do know why we're _really_ here, right? What their _evil_ plan is?"

That caught Solomon's attention.

"Yes, but I didn't think _you_ knew."

The boy turned to him, looking a little confused. "How could I not know? I was in on it."

"In on it? Doesn't that somewhat defeat the purpose of – wait a second. This doesn't quite add up. I think we may be under two different impressions… I was told that this evening was for the purpose of allowing Max to spend some time alone with you, that I'm just here so Diva will have an excuse to leave you together."

Solomon didn't feel at all guilty about having revealed Diva's secret plot. In his opinion of the situation, straight-forward honesty would be more effective than artful deception, especially with a teenage boy, unexperienced in the ways of women.

The boy laughed. "Is _that_ what she told you? That sneaky little -! No, no, no, you've got it all wrong. _I'm _just here so Max will have an excuse to leave you and Diva alone together. Thought I should warn ya, us guys gotta stick together, ya know."

"I'm not sure that's the case, Wesley. Seeing as – why would Diva go through so much trouble and deception to be alone with me, when we've been alone together for almost five days?"

"Yeah but this is the movies, dude. It implies dating and romance and all that shit. Hanging around the house isn't the same thing."

"I suppose you have a point, but – I do wonder why she didn't just ask me."

"Because she's wimpier than she looks." Wes started laughing. "So she really told you that this was a ploy to get me and Max together?"

"She certainly did, and she struck me as rather sincere. You know, I now strongly suspect that we've _both_ been deceived."

"Huh." The boy leaned forward in his chair, sitting upright. "Max likes me?"

"I believe Diva said _she has a huge secret crush on you."_

"Max likes me…" the boy whispered, apparently lost in thought for a few seconds.

"So you see, we've _both_ been had."

"Yeah, I'd say so."

"Oh, what a tangled web they weave…" Solomon chuckled.

"Yeah! _Women_!"

The two of them laughed heartily for a good while.

"So, Solomon, you gonna go for Diva?"

It took him a moment to answer. "I - don't know."

"Hey, you know, she's, um, a great girl. I know a bunch of guys who've got their sights on her."

"Is that so?" Solomon chuckled again, amused at how the boy was so obviously trying to inflate Diva's desirability.

_What a good friend he is._

"I suppose you're one of those boys?"

"Nah, she's not my type, ya know. I mean, don't get me wrong, she's really cool, and pretty fine too, got a nice face, and a _great_ rack."

Solomon knew that the proper response to such a comment would be _how dare you insult her honor with such a crass remark!_ But that wasn't what came out of his mouth.

Solomon threw his head back slightly, speaking in a sigh that was just as much admiration as frustration. "God, I know."

"Shit, you really _are _human!" the boy laughed, smacking him on the side of the arm.

"Hey! We're back!" Diva called out, she and her friend now advancing up the aisle with some refreshments.

"So, what'd you guys talk about?" she asked, passing out sodas.

"Guy stuff," the boy and Chevalier said, simultaneously.

* * *

The movie was over; Diva and Max's insidious plot was now in full swing, Diva had led Solomon outside under the pretense of leaving Max and Wes together in the arcade.

Solomon was actually rather tempted to just out and call her on her scheming – but strangely, the very thing which drove him crazy about her dad, was rather cute on her, or at least it was in the context of discovering that she did indeed have a crush on himself.

Even though at this time, he didn't have any real intention of acting on that information, it was very nice to know nonetheless, if only as a much-needed ego boost.

"Not exactly a white Christmas, is it?" Diva gestured to the palm trees they were seated under.

"No, not really," he answered pleasantly.

"I hope you didn't have somewhere you needed to be, people to spend the holidays with…"

"Well, I'm sure your sister and her family can do quite well without me, and I thought we'd already established that I didn't have any friends."

"Yeah, but I'm sure you still have better things to do than hang out with a bunch of teenagers, you know, like fancy parties and stuff."

"I didn't really have any plans, never been particularly into the whole Christmas thing, to be honest." He laughed at himself. "It's just such a humbug."

Diva giggled. "I've been meaning to ask, um, well, it's just that your name – are you Jewish?"

He smiled uncomfortably. "Not entirely sure how to answer that. You are right in some way, though, I was brought up with that tradition – but that was a very, _very_ long time ago."

Diva just spat out the first thing that came to her mind. "I went to a bar mitzvah once. It was one hell of a party. What was yours like?"

"I didn't have one, actually."

"Why not? Doesn't that mean that you're not a grown up?"

"Actually, it has more to do with moral responsibility. And – I didn't because – well, that's a complicated topic."

"I don't have anything better to do, and I think you'd better go ahead and tell me, it's always _I'm not supposed to talk about this _and _I never talk about that, _with you. I wouldn't have thought it was possible, but I'm actually getting kinda sick of talking about myself."

"A fair point." He paused. "My mother was Jewish, but my father was – let us say, he was a _devout atheist, _but he had little direct involvement in my childhood. My mother was the one who _raised _me, but she died when I was eleven, and my active participation in religion died with her, though it was partially due to a change of scene."

_And the war killed whatever little faith I had left in me._

"What kind of change of scene?"

"I was sent to a boarding school."

"Oh my god, it wasn't a Christian school was it?"

"Not technically, but I was certainly the only Jew there."

"Wow, that sucks."

"Yes, it kind of did - _suck_, at first."

Silence.

"Solomon, we have some hash browns in the freezer at home, I could make them into little pancakes for you."

He burst out laughing. Upon seeing that it was out of amusement, not ridicule, Diva laughed too.

"I appreciate the thought, Diva. But as you know, I generally don't eat unless the situation requires it, and Chanukah is already over, anyway."

"Hmm," Diva leaned back on her hands, "I guess that does give you a good excuse to never celebrate Christmas though."

"Well, it's not like I have a problem with it. There was one time, when I _truly_ celebrated it."

"When was that?" she asked curiously.

He spent a moment debating whether he'd made a mistake in bringing it up, but it was too late now.

"Have you ever heard of the Christmas Truce?"

"Hmm-mmm."

"It was during World War I, in certain areas on the Western Front, by mutual agreement, there was a cease-fire all throughout the holiday."

"Oh yeah! I remember now, from history class! Holy shit, you were _there_?!"

"Well, it happened in several different places, and I was at one of them."

"Well – then tell! Tell!" she demanded excitedly.

"God, it was so long ago…" he closed his eyes, as if it would help him remember. He could recall the most traumatic moments of the war with incredible clarity, but this memory seemed comparatively fuzzy. "We spent the first part of the day burying the dead – some of them had been rotting in No Man's Land for weeks. After we were done, we sat out up there, for the sheer novelty of it, I guess, and to get out of the mud, if only for a little while, the trenches were a foot deep in it, at that time. The Germans were doing the same thing, except, they had a rather inviting fire going, and it was _so _cold. We'd been jokingly hurling greetings at each other all day, and eventually, kind of on a dare, you might say, a few of us walked over to them and offered them some of our liquor – and seeing that we didn't get shot or eaten alive, the rest eventually joined us."

"What did you do together?"

"I guess you could say that we just _hung out_. Attempted to communicate, most of us didn't share a common language, played cards, showed off pictures of our girlfriends and – let us say - pictures of women we_ wished _were our girl friends_, _and actually exchanged a few gifts."

"What gifts?"

"We were poorly supplied, at that particular time, all we could really offer was cigarettes and – I don't recall what they gave us." He closed his eyes again. "Chocolate? Yes, it was chocolate. It was quite good, as I recall, but I suppose that's to be expected, from Germans," he chuckled.

"You like chocolate?"

"I used to."

"What else happened?" Diva asked eagerly.

"Diva, I really don't remember. That was over a hundred years ago and – to be completely honest, I was rather drunk, by the end of it."

"_You _as a drunken soldier, that's kind of hard to picture! But that is such a great, inspiring story though, I don't – I don't quite understand why you're so cynical, if you were present at such a moment!"

"We went right back to killing each other, shortly after. Looking back, the Truce was really an act of hypocrisy, as much as it was an act of humanity."

_It was nice while it lasted, but I felt even worse, in the long run. I had gotten so good at killing, at keeping my mind off it… but the Truce made me _think. _Something not advisable in that type of situation._

"Still a cool story." She turned to him, smiling. "Hey, you know what I just realized?"

"What?"

"A few days ago, you said that you_ never _talked about the war, but just now, you brought it up all on your own."

He chuckled at himself. "I suppose now you're going to tease me for my waffling?"

She looked at him, puzzled. "Why would I make fun of you for _that_?"

"Well, I suppose because," his tone became mockingly authoritarian, "A man is supposed to be resolute in his opinions, to change your mind is to admit that you're wrong, and men aren't supposed to do that."

"I think that's bullshit," Diva declared. "It takes a big man to admit when he's wrong."

He stared at her for more than a moment, eyes locking, as if to reinforce this unanticipated emotional connection.

_It's not every day that I hear my life validated like that._

"So! You guys ready to go?" Max called out, she and Wes having come up behind them.

* * *

Hmm, I know of an excellent present you can give me… I'll give you a clue – it's not bath salts, and it involves clicking that little link below this message.

Happy Day Off!

-Anonymousness


	7. Revelation

This was a rather strange occurrence, at least lately. Having received a brief text from Jonah communicating that he wouldn't be joining her, Aka was now opening her dinner-bento by herself.

_Hmm, eating alone is so boring. I guess I could do that "research" I've been meaning to. _

Chewing the first bite of her dinner, she pulled out her laptop.

_I can't believe that it didn't occur to me to try this sooner,_ she thought, typing "Jonah Wang" into a web-search field. She only had to peruse through a few false leads before coming upon a very promising newspaper article.

"_Seattle Times, November 12, 2038… John Doe."_

_Ooh! Now this could be very interesting! _she thought, clicking the link and continuing to eat her dinner.

She stopped chewing when she saw the picture, half wreathed by the type.

_Oh my god! That's totally him!_

There was no mistaking it; the long-haired, forlorn, and slightly ragged person in the photo was indeed the man she was dating.

She eagerly began to read the corresponding text.

"_There's a bit of a mystery developing over by our very own docks, a real live – John Doe. According to various witnesses, he was found floating in the middle of the Pacific Ocean by an American merchant ship on a return trip from Hong Kong. And as if that wasn't strange enough, the man claims to have no idea how he got there or anything else for that matter. He insists that he doesn't know his own name._

"_No matches have yet been found amongst any American missing persons, authorities are now sending his data to various other partner nations. The castaway appears to be somewhere in his mid to late twenties, about 173 cm tall and 64 kg. He looks to be of Asian descent, but reportedly speaks flawless American English._

"_Now, I first heard the story third-hand, and found it so strange that I had to investigate for myself. I was able to track down Captain Joseph Allan, who was in command at the time the man was taken aboard. He seemed to find the whole episode amusing more than anything else._

"'_We found him near the South edge of the North Pacific Gyre,' he told me, ' ya find all sorts of random stuff floating around there. At first we though he must have been dead; in the ocean, even a good swimmer will die of dehydration in a few days, but right after we hauled him aboard, he hopped right up. Freaked out on us a bit, he actually bit Nick, but he calmed down when we pulled him off. Kinda understandable really, I mean, memory or not, that guy's obviously been through one hell of an ordeal. Anyway, since he wouldn't tell us his name, the crew started givin' him nicknames, two in fact. Some started calling him "Jonah," from a joke about him being coughed up by a whale. Some of the other guys started calling him "Wang" on account of - his not having a stitch of clothes on, when we found him.'"_

Aka chortled, a grain of rice flying from her mouth and onto the computer screen. _I wonder if he knows that his name is a joke! A dirty, and possibly politically incorrect joke at that! But, well, what can you expect, from a bunch of sailors?_

She continued reading.

"_Captain Allen didn't sound at all sure of how the young man ended up out in open ocean."_

"'_Well, if you ask me, he seems like a decent enough guy, but I think there's gotta be something fishy about him," Captain Allen surmised. "Probably a pirate or something, but then again, I guess it's just as likely that he was a hostage tossed overboard by pirates.'"_

"_For now, our John Doe, or Jonah Wang, if you like, is at an undisclosed hospital for psychiatric evaluation, and the staff could not be reached for a comment._

"_If you can provide any information on this man, please call the following number…"_

_Holy shit! _she thought, starting to eat again. _So he is telling the truth… at least, about some stuff. I guess it doesn't prove anything, but it certainly backs up his story._

"Hey!"

Aka turned round, realizing that the greeting had come from the man she was reading about. It took some effort to suppress another giggle at the origin of his name.

"Jonah, where have you been? Break's almost over!"

"I know, I know, a conference ran long," he groaned, "and now I'm on my way downstairs, apparently there's a hysterical French lady in the lobby, I'm gonna go see what I can make of it… But hey, if I miss my dinner break – _hello_ overtime!"

Aka smiled slyly. "Yeah, good thing you never seem to be hungry or tired."

He looked at his shoes. "Um, yeah." He changed the subject, as he usually did whenever she made any allusion to a chiropteran characteristic. "What're you doing on the computer?"

Now it was her turn to be evasive. "Just- shopping," she lied, snapping down the screen.

"Shopping I'm not allowed to see?"

She looked up at him, smirking again. "Well, maybe I'm buying lingerie and I don't want to ruin the surprise."

He actually blushed a little.

_Hah! That shut you right up!_

"Oh, um, then I guess I'll catch you later?"

"Yup."

He flashed an enchanting smile, and turned to leave, humming the same song she'd caught him with the other day, the one from the music box Nathan had given she and her sister, when they were little.

_I know that must mean something! The other day, he hummed the whole second half of the tune before hearing it once through._

_Nathan-ojisan said that mom used to sing that song, and because of all that bullshit forty years ago, Ruka and I aren't allowed to sing it… shit, I don't remember the details._

It came to her as she absentmindedly tapped her fingers against the keys.

_Hey! I've got the whole diary on my hard drive! There's gotta be something about the song in there!_

She pulled up the necessary file, but having no intention of sifting through a thousand pages one at a time, she entered "Diva's song" into the search field, clicking on the first result.

"_According to Dr. Silverstein, the spontaneous transformation of affected individuals is one in ten thousand. However, this probability skyrockets when affected individuals are exposed to the catalyst – Diva's voice, particularly a tune she was known to sing even before being released from her confinement. Now, I am no scientist, but from a scientific perspective, the idea of a mere song being the means of turning a normal human being into a bloodthirsty monster, seems rather hard to believe. However, this transformation has been confirmed, based on the North Carolina incident report. Dr Silverstein has stated that the catalyst is only effective if the song is heard, either in person or through a zero-delay live feed. She theorizes that any individual exposed to the D-base derived from Diva's blood, intrinsically knows the tune. This actually reminds me of a much earlier hypothesis, proposed by the first Joel Goldschmidt, inspired by the now debunked Lamamarkian theory of evolution: that a chiropteran Queen's memories could somehow be encoded in her blood, and this was passed on to offspring. Dr. Silverstein explains it in terms of Jungian concepts, that the song was like a part of a sort of chiropteran collective unconscious, like a mental realm which holds archetypes common to the entire species. Similarly, she analogized the D-base vocal catalyst phenomenon in terms of "synchronicity," or two causally unrelated events, coming together in a meaningful way…"_

Aka leaned back in her chair, sighing as she gazed at the ceiling. _Two causally unrelated events coming together in a meaningful way… I like the sound of that… like me and Jonah. Causally unrelated, but…_

_God, I'm really starting to fall for him, aren't ? I really should avoid such an irrevocable feeling before I've really figured out what his deal is…_

_I should…_

For someone with a tendency toward thrill-seeking, the suggestion of danger and mystery was a very attractive accessory on a potential beau. Just as with a human watching a scary movie on a date, every titillating flush of adrenaline enhanced the flutter of germinal love.

Everything seemed to conspire to make the young Queen fall for this intriguing young Chevalier. There was the obvious: their compatible personalities and her finding him good-looking. There was also that faint, but intoxicating scent of his, perhaps some pheromonal attractant. But more importantly, she knew that he was a chiropteran, so she didn't need to worry about him not accepting her when he found out what she was, like earlier boyfriends, always preemptively dumped before she'd even told them, for reactions they hadn't even had yet. Nor was there a possibility that a desire to become immortal was partially motivating his advances; she'd wondered that with Joel…

Sure, Jonah's background was kind of shady, but to a nearly-fearless monster-slayer, what was that in the face of these other perfections?

_Or is it already too late? Am I already in love with him?_

She shook her head, as if to banish these thoughts through centripetal force, clearing it just enough to return to her mind to her research.

_So, chiropterans derived from my mom inherently know her song… But wait! Obaachan said that song, at least that initial andante theme, came from olden times, and my mother knew it without even hearing it…_

She slapped the table. _Shit! I'm back to square one! He's either an ancient Chevalier, or some modern abomination…_

_Damn it, I'll figure this out yet._

On a whim, she clicked on the minimized window, displaying that newspaper article.

_November 12, 2038…_

She gasped as it came to her.

_That's only a few weeks after the Kaho'olawe mission!_

She frantically navigated to an encyclopedia, in order to find out just where the North Pacific gyre was.

_And the location he was found at isn't too far away from Hawaii!_

_He must have been blown clear out of the bunker and into the ocean!_

_Hey, and that means that he _can't _be some corpse corps prototype! No artificial chiropteran could have survived an explosion that huge – but a Chevalier could, wasn't Saya's husband in the Met when it was blown up? _

_Jonah isn't an abomination after all!_

But her heart sank at the inevitable realization that followed.

_He was still at that lab… with our enemies._

_But the only people there when we attacked were standard corpse corps, including that one who was commanding them. We never found anyone else._

_Wait – we never looked at the "tank" levels… he must have been locked up down there!_

Her grimace raised into a hopeful smile. _But if he was locked up, then he couldn't have really been working for them! He wasn't a bad guy, he was a victim! He must have gotten captured somehow, and dragged there for experimentation._

Wanting to believe it made it more believable.

_We rescued him without even knowing it!_

_But I still wonder… where would Collins' pet corpse corps and what's his face- Argiano find a _real_ Chevalier?_

* * *

Wanting to show off her domestic skills, Saya had arranged a small family dinner at their home; the party included her mother and stepfather, as well as Kai and Mao. Dessert had just concluded; Rose and Lis were now glued to the television set in the living room, oblivious to all else, while the adults sat chatting around the dinner table.

"Hey, why'd you guys decide to move to Los Angeles anyway?" Mao asked Freddie and Yuki, casual question sounding more like a demand, in her usual way. "I mean, I would have thought you'd hang around here, you know, to be around Saya and your grandkids."

"True, true, it would be nice to be around the kiddies more, but Los Angeles has some rather unique opportunities in the entertainment industry, which Freddie is getting into."

Mao shot a sidelong glance at the in-law, who answered with a smug smirk. "And besides," Freddie chimed in, "don't you think we _belong _out in the _Land of Fruits and Nuts_?"

The eyes of the two eldest members of the party met.

"_Now?"_

Freddie nodded. "_Now or never."_

"_Shouldn't I take her aside?"_

"_No. If you tell her in front of everyone, she'll be less likely to freak out."_

"_Alright then, here it goes…"_

Yuki scooted her chair closer to Saya.

"Precious, do you remember what happened on that little island, a few years ago?"

"I guess so," Saya answered, clearly uncertain of what the question pertained to.

"Do you remember how I saved your life?"

"It was with your blood, right?"

"Yes precious. Then do you know _why _I saved your life?"

The answer seemed so obvious as to make Saya unsure of it, thinking it must have been a trick question. "I guess I just assumed it was because I'm your daughter."

"Yes, precious, that's exactly right," Yuki said with overstated adulation. "And I'm sure that now you're a mother, you completely understand. You would do the same for your daughters, right?"

"Of course I would!" Saya exclaimed, unable to contain her vehemence on the subject.

"I'm glad to hear that." Yuki leaned forward, taking her daughters hands. "Because it should make it easier for you to understand why I've done what I've done."

Saya tensed, an ill premonition taking hold of her like a stone sinking down in her gut.

Yuki pulled her daughter's hands to her chest, pressing them to her heart. "Precious, your sister is alive," she explained, gently as a lullaby. "We brought her back to life just after your wedding. She's been living with us in Los Angeles for nearly five years." Yuki leaned even closer, speaking more emphatically. "Saya, she hasn't received the blood of her Chevalier, she has no memory of her past. The abuse and evil influence that made her the way she was have been completely erased; she would never hurt a human, now. As a matter of fact, she's no more capable of harm then an average human, because she's lost her chiropteran powers too. Saya, she's so amazingly normal, so amazingly _human. _She's a normal girl who loves her family, goes to school, has friends; she's exactly like you were when _you_ didn't have _your _memories."

In Saya's bewildered mind, her mother's words had already faded into an almost unintelligible echo, their meaning muffled by her own whirling thoughts.

"Saya, I want you to come back with us to California, to see her. She wants to meet you so badly, she talks about you non-stop. What do you say?"

For a moment, Saya only stared blankly, her face bearing no shock or rage, trembling hands the only visible sign of her distress, having retreated into her own dark past.

"Saya?"

It was a few seconds still before she snapped out of her catatonia. Saya rose from her chair, grave, though calm, paced across the room, opened the front door, walked through it and shut it behind her. She just stood there on the porch, panting and pulling at her own hair for a moment, and then finally took off running.

* * *

A mutual day off gave them the opportunity to exceed a simple drink after work, and enjoy a superlative night on the town. The evening appeared to be nearing its conclusion, as the two of them stood just inside the door of her apartment, indulging in their now customary hug-goodnight.

As close to her as he was at that moment, his scent with its inexplicable charm, wrapped around her just like his arms.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Red."

With that, he surged forward, placing a gentle, but heartwarming kiss on her lips, lasting just long enough to make it feel as if the floor had disappeared under her feet. Pulling away slowly, he displayed a smile somewhat different than those mischievous grins she'd observed on him before, one that seemed to express only adoration, eyes locked on her in a soft gaze, head still slightly tilted from the kiss.

_Okay, that's it. I have to tell him, or I'll just burst. _

"Jonah -" she spoke, almost in a whisper. "There's something I want to tell you, or well, I guess it's really more of a heads-up."

He just looked at her, smile urging her to continue.

Bold as she often was, even Akahana had to gather her courage, before handing him this perilous information.

"Jonah – you see – I think I might be starting to fall in love with you. Just thought you should know."

She braced herself for his reaction, studying him carefully for either of the two responses she thought he might have.

But instead of the joy or awkward embarrassment she was expecting, his expression seemed to show a general sense of regret and unhappiness.

"Jonah, you look kind of – sad."

"I am sad," he answered quietly, as if trying to make some feeble attempt at hiding his emotion.

"It's okay if you don't feel that way about me, I mean, we've only been going out for like, a week and a half. Why be sad?"

"Because I love you," he whispered dejectedly.

Aka looked at him, now even more perplexed. "Well, wouldn't that make what I just said a good thing?"

"No!" he shouted, teary gloss flickering in his eyes. "Because knowing you feel that way about me too, will just make it harder for me to let you go."

"Why let me go?"

He swallowed. "Because – Akahana, there are things - that you don't know about me."

He'd never called her by her real name like that before, and there was something rather ominous about what he had said. Aka stiffened, suspecting that the next words from his lips would be _you see, I've been sent to kill you._

"Jonah, your amnesia – it's not – I mean, there are things you _do_ remember, aren't there?" she asked cautiously, glancing at the sword hanging on her wall, wondering if she'd be able to grab it in time or if she'd have to make do without it.

"No! No no!" he exclaimed, eyes pleading and earnest. "Akahana, I swear, you know as much about my past as I do! Everything I've told you is the truth! It's just that – there are a few things that I left out."

She squinted at him, the fear on her face transforming into a tentative smirk. "Wait, you're not just talking about how you drink human blood, are you?"

His eyelids peeled back, exposing so much white that it seemed as if the brown had shrunk, his mouth open, revealing nervously gritted teeth.

She laughed at him. "That's what you're angsting about, isn't it? God! You really thought I didn't know! Jonah, I've known what you were, almost since I met you." She smiled wickedly. "Betcha I know more weird stuff about you – let's see – when you don't drink blood, you get kinda tired and dizzy – but otherwise, you're never ever sleepy – oh, and you're freakishly fast and strong, even though you never go to the gym – you can see in the dark – you can _see_ things with your ears-"

"H-how?" he interjected in a wavering gasp.

"You really don't know, do you?" she giggled, reaching up for the wall, and her katana.

"Akahana -" Jonah backed away nervously, giving her the impression that he was now having the same suspicions she'd had a few moments earlier, that she was about to kill him. But instead of flinging the weapon in his direction, she drew the blade across the center of her palm, holding her hand up to his face as if commanding him to stop. His eyes strained even wider, and focused on her rapidly closing wound.

He seized her hand, lips formed into an open-mouthed smile. "You're – you're like me."

"Aww Jonah, you get the cutest bug-eyed look when you're worked up! It's so -"

He cut her off with a hug, one arm pulling her close, the other trembling as it held her face to his chest, which was bouncing with frantic laugher. She wasn't sure, but she thought she felt a tear hit her hair.

"Shit Jonah, with the way you're carrying on, if I didn't know better, I'd say you thought you were the only one!"

He pulled away and stared at her intensely. "Of course that's what I thought! How was I supposed to know that there were other blood-drinking mutants out there?!"

Akahana laughed again. "Blood-drinking mutant? Damn, you really _don't_ know anything about anything!" She paused to kiss him. "We're not mutant humans, stupid, we're chiropterans, a separate species – or - well, as a male, you probably used to be human, but were turned into a chiropteran with the blood of a – hang on a sec, let me get some scratch paper, this gets pretty complicated."

"Wait." He gently grasped her arm. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Well…" she twirled the ball of her foot against the ground like a child, trying to weasel of trouble through sheer force of cuteness. "I wanted to figure out what _you_ knew first… and messing with you was just so much fun!"

"Akahana, all this time I thought that you'd leave me when you found out, but you're actually -" He hugged her again, tears of happiness still in his eyes. "You're full of surprises."

* * *

It was nearly three when they'd decided to take a recess from Akahana's lesson on the basics of chiropterans, or rather, had started making out during one of the pauses in the lecture.

But a few minutes later found the two of them sitting on the edge of Aka's bed, and though they were half undressed, a few articles of clothing tossed to the floor in the heat of passion, whatever intimacies they had been building up to appeared to have been put on hold, as the two of them seemed engaged in a fairly serious conversation.

"I'm sorry, should have explained that part before we got started…" Aka sighed. "But it really is true, I really _can't."_

Jonah looked at the floor with a forced smile. "I believe you, it wouldn't be the weirdest thing you've told me about chiropterans." He looked up at her. "But let me make sure I've got this straight – you can only get pregnant if you're a virgin, and it's with your sister's Chevalier – and if you don't by a certain age, you have to sleep for thirty years?"

"That's the gist of it," Aka lamented.

"In other words, you have to save yourself for your sister's Chevalier?"

She turned to him, smiling sweetly. "My self is already yours, dummy."

"I mean you have to save – your body for your sister's Chevalier."

Aka giggled. "No, Jonah. I have to save my hymen for my sister's Chevalier." Her smile went from sweet to spicy. "You can do whatever you want with the rest of me."

* * *

Her mother's announcement literally had her reeling, that sinking feeling she'd had was now ten times worse, as if the weight of a lifetime's worth of troubles was now lodged in the pit of her stomach, resulting in mild nausea and general malaise.

As if the idea of Diva being allowed to walk this earth literally made her sick.

As was her habit, Saya had fled to the beach to gather her thoughts, and though she'd gone there to be alone, the knowledge that Haji was somewhere on the periphery didn't really bother her, she'd gotten used to that, over the years. But Saya was about to learn what her niece had discovered a few months ago – that it was not in her family's nature to let a sulking person be.

"Hello darling."

Saya glared in her stepfather's direction as soon as his greeting alerted her to his presence.

"You are the last person I want to talk to right now, _Nathan,_" she muttered furiously.

"Oh, glad to know that at least someone's behind Diva on that list." He sat down beside her, placing his hand on her shoulder, only to have her scoot a pace away, so as to remove herself from his reach. "Saya, I know that couldn't have been easy to hear. I realize that in some way, your mother and I have just undone your life's work, and that would be enough to upset anyone. Look, Saya, your mother told you the story of her own death, didn't she? The fight between she and her sister? Yes, I know she told you. Then you MUST know how important this is to her, to get you and Diva together, to end this cycle of vendetta -"

"Nathan, there is nothing you could possibly say, that would convince me to ever see her again," Saya practically growled.

This in itself was quite a concession on her part. If Saya had truly been of the same mind as she had in decades past, then forever keeping away from Diva would have been entirely unacceptable, as it would have rendered her unable to kill her. The fact that Saya wasn't on her way to execute her little sister at that very moment, made it clear that, shook-up and pissed-off as she was, her feelings toward Diva had softened considerably.

"Fine then," Freddie replied, calm but audibly annoyed. "I guess I'll have to take a page from your husband's book, and just trust you to do the right thing."

He disappeared, but for the briefest of moments, she felt something being slid into her back pocket, and quickly found it to be a small scrap of paper bearing a phone number with an American area code, labeled only as _Diva cell._

The note was promptly crushed in Saya's fist, and pitched at the ground.

Within minutes, Saya perceived that someone else was approaching, too slow and loud not to be human. But her irritation ebbed when she realized that it was Kai.

Now here was someone who would surely understand how she felt, here was someone who must be feeling the same horrified fury as she. He was the one person in the world who ever stood a chance of hating Diva as much as she did.

"Hey," Kai greeted her. He grunted while he crouched toward the ground, youthful litheness lost some years ago. He reclined on the sand next to her in silence for a minute or two, resting his head on his palms, and not taking his eyes off the night sky when he spoke. "You have to do it, you know. You have to go see her."

She stared at him in wide-eyed disbelief. "Kai…" she stammered. "How can you…"

"I know, I know. You're right. There was a point in my life when there was nothing I would have liked more than to rip her apart with my bare hands. That was back when I was a stupid, angry kid who'd just been through some shit that should have put me in therapy. But I'm 57 years old now, I've raised three kids, I've seen a good bit of the world." One of his hands slid out from under his head, and was placed over the red-jeweled necklace he was wearing. "I admit, there _is _a part of me that's really not cool with her being alive, but I've learned that you've just gotta let shit go."

Saya could hardly believe what she was hearing, let alone that she was hearing it from her hotheaded, scrappy brother.

"I don't think she's _really _evil, Saya. You know how I know? Because if she was, if she was evil, right down to the core, unchangeable by circumstances – then you'd be evil too. You're her twin, Saya, and if she was born to be evil, you'd be the same. And you're not, you've proved that a million times over. I raised Aka and Ruka, and I know that they're definitely not _half _evil. Yeah they can be a pain in the ass, but there isn't an evil bone in either of 'em. So now that Diva has no memories, I'm inclined to believe Yuki, that she's just like you."

"She killed Riku!" Saya burst out in a furious sob.

"I know that, Saya!" His voice cracked. "And if Yuki said anything that would even slightly suggest that Diva is the same as she was, then I'd be here begging you to kill her, instead of telling you to go hang out with her. But it sounds like that's not what's going on here." He finally turned to look at her. "She's your sister, Saya. Your sister."

"No she's not! Diva was _never _my sister! We may have the same mother, but she isn't my sister!"

"Saya, it's not like this is the first time you've been asked to love a stranger like a sibling."

"She's not a stranger! She's my -"

"Sister!" Kai cut her off. "Come on, what if Riku went nuts, did some bad shit and then forgot all about it? Would you never want to see him again?! I mean, yeah, I guess it's possible that you still won't get along with Diva, but can't you try talking to her first?!"

"That's completely different! She's brought so much death and misery -"

Kai finally sat up.

"Do we hate _you_ for the shit you did in Vietnam? Look at Haji! You cut off his fucking arm, and he obviously still loves you as much as _anyone_ has ever loved _anyone_. Look at David – You killed his father. His father, Saya. And he's never held it against you, he may not be the mushy-type, but the guy really cares about you. And most of all – look at Dad. Dad actually saw you killing people, saw you kill all his friends, and he still loved you as his daughter. He recognized that when you woke up, you weren't the same person that killed those people, and was so sure of it, trusted you so much, forgave you so completely, that he brought you to live in the same house as his freaking kids. Saya, you've gotten so much slack for the past, people have always put so much faith in you, and I'm gonna tell you what I told little Aka and Ruka a million times, what I've heard you say you Rose and Lis: share with your sister." He smiled at her, hoping to coax her into doing the same. "Share some of that slack and faith with her."

No smile appeared.

"I know you Saya, I know you have trouble letting go of the past, and this strikes me as a good chance to do that." His voice rose, not in anger or excitement, but as if speaking to someone some distance away. "You think so too, don't you?"

Saya hadn't noticed that Haji was now standing fairly close to them, no doubt drawn by the raised voices.

"Yes."

Saya glared at her husband for daring to express an opinion so different from her own; needless to say, it hardly ever happened.

"I believe that Kai has a valid point, but I also believe there is a significant chance that Freddie and Yuki are mistaken or lying, and that Diva is still dangerous. Meeting her is the only way you can know for sure. If she is harmless, then this could be an excellent opportunity for you to reconcile with your past. And if she is dangerous, then you will be in an excellent position to - _rectify the situation_."

That was the best argument she'd heard all night.

"See, even if you still hate her guts, you still have to meet her," said Kai. "C'mon, it won't be _that_ bad, go hang out in California for a little while. Me and Mao'll take the kids while you're gone. And if shit does go wrong with Diva, well, we all know you can take her."

Saya's tone turned from self-righteous anger to self-conscious anxiety. "But to actually – spend time with her, as a sister… What if she actually _is_ nice, and I don't have it in me to be nice back?"

"Aww, c'mon Saya." Kai smiled encouragingly. "What'd you forget Dad's magic word, or something?"

The crumpled piece of paper at her feet seemed to stare up at her, demanding action.

* * *

And as always - I crave reviews!


	8. Tough Call

If anyone had cared to pay attention, they would have noticed a pair of blurred blue streaks leaping from rooftop to rooftop, playing hopscotch with the New York City skyline.

They laughed like pair of tickled children when they stopped to rest on the glossy surface of a rooftop solar panel.

"I can't believe I never tried that before!" Jonah panted.

"When we were kids, my sister and I used to sneak out to go roof jumping, like, every night."

The two of them sat down at the roof's edge, feet dangling carelessly over the street, hundreds of feet below.

"I'd really like to meet your family," he said, draping an arm over her shoulder.

"I'd really like you to meet my family," she echoed sweetly. "We should totally go to Okinawa, when I finally get some time off."

He smiled. "I'll start saving up for plane tickets."

"No you won't!" she snapped cheekily. "It'll be on me. I mean, seriously, I make at least twice what you do!"

His smile and shoulders drooped slightly, earning him a playful smack.

"Oh come on, Jonah. You're not gonna get all old-school gender-roles on me are you? I mean, I'm a doctor. We make money."

His expression turned to one of curiosity, and he took the opportunity to change the subject. "Hey, I'd been wondering; why did you want to be a doctor in the first place, if you're not even human?"

"Why does a human want to become a veterinarian?" she replied. "What can I say, I have a bit of a soft spot for _critters_."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Makes sense."

"But, I guess it is more complicated than that. I think it's mainly because, well, a lot of people want to be doctors, but they end up having various reasons not to do it. I didn't have any of those reasons. Between my loaded step-mom and my loaded uncle, money for school has never been an issue, of course, I don't have any problems with the sight of blood or guts, I'm used to working under pressure, from all those monster-slaying missions, and I'm immortal, so I wouldn't be wasting my entire youth in medical school… But I guess it really started because of Ruka." She paused. "My sister had this random epiphany, one day. She realized that while we would live forever, the people we loved wouldn't…. plus, she thought that being a doctor would impress this guy she was into. I kinda just followed her." Aka sighed. "In a way, I feel like I've been doing that for my whole life, following her lead. The truly weird thing is that _she's_ always said the same thing about _me_."

She turned to him and grinned. "My weird family. You'll fit right in."

He smiled back, that impetuous, bewitching smile.

"Marry me," he blurted, as if it were as uncontrollable as a belch.

She froze. "Are you serious?" Aka managed to stutter.

"Of course I am!"

"But -" she sounded both happy and unnerved, with more of the latter, "We've only been dating for two weeks…"

"I don't care!" he declared, adorably vehement. "We haven't been together for very long, but I don't care. I know it sounds crazy, but – I've never been more sure of anything in my life! I want to be with you until the end of time. We're meant to be together. I know it. I know it."

_Oh lord…_

"But – there's also – I explained how it works with chiropterans – in a few years, I'll be reaching full, sexual maturity, which means that I'll have to make a Chevalier, whether I want to or not, for my sister's sake. And I'll _have to _sleep with her boyfriend to get pregnant. Otherwise I'd have to hibernate, and when I woke up, half the people I care about might be dead, the world could be completely different – scary stuff."

That seemed to put a little bit of a damper on his enthusiasm. "This guy, that your sister's gonna make into her Chevalier – do you like him?"

"Well, yeah, but not like _that_! He's like my brother!" she exclaimed, wincing in disgust. "But I won't have much choice."

_But once he becomes a Chevalier, that biological chemistry will probably make it a little less repulsive, if not less awkward._

Jonah leaned forward, putting a hand on either side of her head, embracing her face.

"I don't care," he said again. "What does it matter? I'd die for you, so logically, I should be able to share you, if it's just once and there's no other way and you only like him as a brother. So please say you'll -"

"Jonah, I don't know," she repeated.

_What a hypocrite I would be. I left because I was afraid of commitment and settling down before I was ready – only to come home engaged to a guy I've only known for a few weeks! _

"Well, we don't have to get married right away!" he pleaded. "We'll just be engaged. It doesn't really matter if we get married in two days or two decades. But I think I would like going about my days, knowing that it was in my future."

_I shouldn't…_

_I shouldn't…_

And then he kissed her.

_Oh what the hell! Jonah isn't Joel, so why should I worry about treating them the same way! _

_And it's not like I can't change my mind later… unlike making a Chevalier._

She smiled. "I don't care either."

* * *

As had become the morning routine, a pajamaed Diva moseyed into the kitchen to forage for her breakfast, sometime between eight and noon. The first few times, she had seemed a little surprised to find Solomon working at the kitchen table, but seemed to have gotten used to it, by now.

"Good morning, Diva."

She flashed a smile at him.

"You're back to wearing a suit, today," she sighed in melodramatic disappointment.

"Would you prefer that I wear your dad's clothes for the rest of my time here?" he asked cheerfully.

"Not particularly. Just teasing you." She shrugged. "I like your suits, they work for you, and – there's something inherently – appealing about a young guy in a nice suit."

"Glad to know you approve of my wardrobe," he returned, blithely sarcastic.

"Do you really _always _wear suits?"

"Not while bathing," he chuckled snidely. He was tempted to add one other activity in which he was unlikely to wear a suit, but decided that would be a little much, even amongst the playfully suggestive comments that had been volleying back and forth between them for the past few days.

Those seemed to both alleviate and accentuate the sexual tension of spending all day alone in a house with someone that held obvious potential as a lover.

"Even when you're just hanging out at home?"

"Yes."

_Except when I'm particularly sulky._

"Why?" she asked curious and yet condescending.

He thought a moment. "Habit, I suppose."

"That's not really a reason," she nagged.

And as usual, he felt inclined to indulge her. "At one time, when I was growing up, this was – just how respectable men dressed and – well, to be honest, it's been a long time since I realized that a nice suit has a way of making people more inclined to respect you, right off the bat."

"Respect you? But wait, aren't you like, the boss of your company? How do _you _have trouble getting respect?"

Solomon chortled in spite of himself. "You might be surprised at how difficult it is for someone like me to get taken seriously."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He only sort of answered the question. "I suppose my apparent age has a lot to do with it, but also – this face."

Diva giggled. "Um, Solomon, there's nothing wrong with your face, trust me!"

"That's my point. The more people _like_ to look at you, the less they tend to listen to you. Humans tend not to take a young, attractive person seriously. And I don't refer to myself as attractive out of vanity; it's just that once you've heard something said about yourself a _million _times, you eventually accept it as fact."

"So it's a power-trip thing?"

"I didn't say that. I'm just saying that I think if I dressed more casually or fashionably, I wouldn't get _any_ respect."

"Poor Solomon," Diva sniveled mockingly, "He has it so tough! Everyone hates him because he's beautiful!"

"Diva…" He let out that distinctive, almost parental sigh that had, in the distant past, always signified some frustration with her. "I'm sure you've experienced this too."

Diva assumed her dad's thinker pose. "Well, I guess I'd be a little less likely to take a girl seriously, if she looked like a Barbie-doll."

Solomon chuckled softly. "That's actually not what I meant. I'm sure that you, yourself have a hard time getting people to listen to you, for that reason, though you may not have figured it out yet."

Diva cocked her head to the side. "Wait – are you – are you saying that you – think I'm beautiful?"

"You say it like no one ever has ever told you that, before," he laughed casually, as if what he'd said was so bland and obvious as to be no particular cause for excitement.

In terms of objective reality, neither Diva nor her sister would be considered exceptionally pretty, at least in a conventional, Hollywood sort of way. But Solomon was known for a tendency to disregard any opinion other than his own, so in his mind, if he found her beautiful, then so too must everyone else.

"Well," she actually sounded a little embarrassed, looking down at her twiddling fingers, "I have, but – it doesn't count coming from your parents, or your friends! But then again, I guess you count as a friend now."

Before he had a chance to note any particular sentiment related to that statement, she had jerked the conversation back to an earlier point.

"You're full of shit!" she suddenly declared, pointing at him accusingly.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah!" Diva proclaimed haughtily. "All that whining about your face! You're a chiropteran, you can change your appearance at will; I've seen my parents do it! If you _really_ didn't like being a pretty boy, then you would change your face!" She laughed victoriously, as if she'd won an argument. "I think you _like _being the best looking guy in the room."

"Good point," he conceded. "But I didn't say that looking like this doesn't have its advantages."

"Yeah, I bet you can get any girl you want," she muttered.

His gaze was averted, tone a little more subdued. "Now _that _is not true."

"Oh, hang on a sec," Diva demanded distractedly, pulling her cell phone out of her pocket. Solomon found it somewhat amusing that she kept her cell phone on her person at all times, even in her pajamas.

"That's one hell of an area code," she announced, examining the display before answering. "Hello?"

The line was silent.

"Hello?"

Still silent.

"Hello? Hello? … hanging up now -"

And then a timid, sober voice crept up on the other end.

"Is this – Diva?"

"Yeah," Diva answered breathlessly, already having an inkling of who this might be. "Is this Saya?"

There was some delay in the answer. "Yes."

Diva's face formed into a toothy, ecstatic smile. "Oh my god! I've been waiting for you to call for so long! It's so awesome to finally hear from you!" Diva glanced over at Solomon and waved toward the door, silently mouthing a command for him to leave the room, but having an interest in the conversation himself, he didn't budge. "Can you hang on a sec, Saya?"

"Um, yeah."

Diva pressed her thumb over the receiver. "Scram Solomon! I've been waiting to have a heart to heart with my sister for five years!"

He reluctantly nodded, and exited the kitchen.

"And don't you listen at the door either!" she added threateningly before removing her thumb and returning to the conversation.

"Hey, Saya?"

"Hmm."

"So, um, mom and dad are staying at your place?"

Again, a delay in the answer. "They're staying at a hotel. But they've been spending time at our house."

"Oh, cool."

Another silence followed, which Diva felt it necessary to fill. "So, how was Christmas? Did you get anything good?"

"Um, I did get some new glass cups," Saya answered, still sounding rather subdued.

"Nice?"

"Yeah. Red, Satsuma kiriko style." Another long pause. "Did you – get anything good?"

Diva, not having any experience communicating with her sister, didn't quite notice how flattened and cautious Saya sounded.

"Oh, I got my presents before mom and dad left, fancy headphones and some book-cards."

Silence again, this time ended by Diva asking the question that she couldn't hold in a second longer. "So, you're coming to visit me, right?"

An even longer pause before this answer. "I don't know…"

"Oh come on!" Diva pleaded. "It'll be so much fun! I promise! You can stay at our place, the guest room is totally sweet, it's got this kickass bathtub with this great view of the hills through the window; I totally use it when I want to unwind. And we can go see some fun stuff, like Hollywood and all that touristy crap! It'll be so much fun! I promise!

She still didn't answer.

"Pleeeease, Saya!"

"I guess – I could come out for a little while."

"Awesome! Awesomeawesomeawesome! Are you gonna come back with mom and dad?"

"I don't think so – there's a lot of arrangements I'll have to make."

"Then when?" Diva asked eagerly. "How 'bout the beginning of February? I've got a few days off from school then!"

"I guess that could work."

"Yayyy!" Diva squealed. "It'll be a total blast!"

"I should actually get going."

"Already?" Diva's voice shifted from joyous to whiny.

"You know, long-distance charges. And it's pretty late over here."

It didn't occur to Diva that it was around four in the morning in Japan; her sister had been up soul-searching all night.

"Oh," her tone perked up, "I guess we'll have tons of time to talk in a few weeks!"

"I'll – see you."

"Yup!"

Saya hung up first, but Diva didn't seem to notice, nor did she realize that Solomon had reentered the room as soon as the conversation ended, a sure sign that he had in fact been listening.

"Yyyyeeeess!" she shrieked giddily, throwing her hands up in the air as if in a hallelujah. "She's coming! She's coming! She's coming to visit me!" she sang, utilizing some unknown melody, and beginning to dance wildly about the room.

Highly entertained by her antics, Solomon just watched unobtrusively, until she happened to prance by him, and paused to press a brief, cartoonish smooch on his cheek before resuming her previous silliness, and continuing on for at least another minute.

"Saya's coming here! In a few weeks! She's actually coming!" Diva then explained, as if it wasn't obvious enough by her wacky song.

"So I gathered," Solomon returned through a pleased smile.

_So, Saya's coming here…_

Staring admiringly at his cheerful charge, a thought came into his mind.

_I wonder how she'd react if Diva and I were _together_…_

And then it came to him, that old notion of acquiring a girlfriend simply for the purpose of giving Saya some small taste of his own jealousy and regret.

_And who could possibly play the part better than her own_ behated_ sister? Even independent of their previous animosity, to date an ex-lover's sister is generally considered hurtful. _

_Yes, Diva would be perfect. It would be easy, since she already likes me…_

"Solomon?"

"Yes?"

"You're staring at me, in this freaky way," she said, inquisitive and suspicious. "You look like Vlad when he's about to pounce."

The accuracy of her assertion was almost frightening.

_She always was like that, so socially oblivious, and yet she'd virtually read my mind at the strangest times._

_I would have thought that tendency would disappear, without the blood of awakening._

He deceitfully laughed it off. "Ah, Diva, what I would give for your imagination."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Oh well!" Diva's voice regained its previous gleeful excitement. "I gotta go call Max, and tell her about Saya!" she announced, literally skipping out of the room.

_No. I can't._

_Much as I'd like to see Saya's reaction, I can't do that to Diva._

Solomon was hardly known for that sort of mercy or respectfulness, but it should be kept in mind that the girl he was sparing was not just a superior being, the same as he, this was Diva. Not some insignificant, microscopic speck on the face of earth and time, whose life and feelings meant nothing in the grand scheme of things, but a true chiropteran Queen, rightfully off limits for use as an expendable pawn in the games of a spurned lover.

_If I were to start a relationship with her, it shouldn't be for those reasons._

He laughed at himself.

_God, what am I even thinking? _

_Sure, she is every bit as lovely as Saya, and I suppose there is some sort of connection…_

_... but that's just my blood talking._

_If she really were some random high school girl, I wouldn't be feeling anything beyond some slight enjoyment of her company, and perhaps some mild physical attraction._

_But my blood tells me that I _have to_ love her, just some evolutionary strategy meant to keep Chevaliers at the side of their Queen for the sake of providing sustenance and protection._

Being no longer fully enamored with Saya, and hesitant to risk his heart again, that cynical interpretation of chiropteran behavior was convenient to cling to.

_It's just my blood…_

… _and look at what a mess it got me into last time._

* * *

"Hey!" Aka exclaimed excitedly into the phone. "Ruka, I haven't heard from you in like, a million years!"

"Yeah, like, more than a week!"

"Oh my god, Ruka! I've met the most amazing guy! I'm totally in love!"

"_Shut - up_, really? Tell, tell!"

"Hang on, I just sent you a picture. Shit, where do I even start?! He's cute, and fun, and sweet – and that's not even the best part."

"Ooo, does he go down?"

It was hardly an inappropriate question between these twins who withheld nothing from each other.

"Oh, well, that too. But what I really meant is that - you won't believe this – he's a Chevalier!"

Ruka laughed. "You're right, I don't believe it."

"It's true! I pinky-swear!"

Pinky oaths were not something taken lightly between these sisters.

"Holy crap, you're serious, aren't you?"

Aka then proceeded to recount virtually every detail she'd been able to piece together about Jonah's mysterious background, adding in her own optimistic theories about him.

"Isn't it cool?!" Aka declared at the conclusion of the tale.

Ruka hesitated, so her sister decided to fill the silence.

"Ruka, I am so in love! It feels so _good_! It - makes the whole world - perfect! And you'll never guess what else… We're engaged! We're not gonna get married anytime soon, but we are engaged!"

Still silence on the other end.

"Ruka, say something."

"I would, but I don't think you'll like it."

"Well, say it anyway!"

Ruka gave a disapproving hum before speaking. "Have you lost your mind?"

Aka's chipper excitement deflated like a stabbed balloon. It took her a moment even to muster a furious – "Ruka, what the hell?!"

"That's exactly what I should say to you! Holy crap! Where do _I_ start?! The guy was obviously hanging out with our enemies! He _claims _not to remember anything? For all you know, he was helping them! He might be _programmed_ to get close to you, so he can capture or kill you, or to use you to lead _them_ back to the rest of us! Can't you see how incredibly shady this guy is? And now you say you're engaged?!"

"Don't you think I've thought of that stuff?!"

"Not hard enough, apparently."

"Why are you talking to me like I'm some – brainlessly infatuated idiot?!"

"Well, you're sure as hell acting like one, Aka," Ruka said, calm and severe.

"Fuck you!" Aka's voice cracked mid-profanity, and she slammed her thumb down on the end-call button.

She stood in the center of her silent apartment, trembling with rage and cognitive dissidence.

_Just calm down. Just calm down. She doesn't know him. She doesn't know him like I do. Once she meets him, she'll see. She doesn't know him…_

She could almost hear her sister's response to her own inner monolog.

"_Neither do you, Aka."_

* * *

While Saya was off making that pivotal phone call, Kai confronted her parents.

"What about Aka and Ruka?"

The question was directed toward Yuki, but answered by Freddie.

"They actually shouldn't be told. Not yet."

"They have just as much right to know about this as Saya! Diva is their mother for Christ sake!"

"I know, I know. The thing is, if they are told, they'll certainly want to meet Diva right away, no matter what we say, and you know how stubborn they can get. To allow Diva to meet them will require either a complex and well-rehearsed framework of lies, or we'll have to tell her something about her past. It's one thing to have an estranged sister, it's quite another to discover you have two adult children; she'll want to know where they came from. Now, Yuki and I do plan on telling her about Aka and Ruka eventually, but we want to be absolutely sure that Diva's firmly planted in her current self before getting into anything about her past, and neither of us is completely convinced that this has occurred. But, perhaps, sometime in as early as a few years, Diva will be ready to hear enough of her history to be introduced to her daughters. But for now, we have to keep Aka and Ruka in the dark. For now the priority has to be getting things patched up between Saya and Diva, lest things go back to the way they were."

"I agree with you there," Kai grunted.

"Oh, and I'm sure the Red Shield's management will get their proverbial panties in a twist when they find out that Diva's alive, so I think we'd best keep this on the DL for the time being, at least until Saya's met her, and is prepared to vouch for her character and utter rehabilitation. I think a favorable report from their mascot should assuage their dogmatic hostility."

Kai didn't look so sure of this, keeping such a huge secret from the organization he was sworn to.

"Fine, I'll leave _that_ up to Saya."

* * *

Freddie and Yuki were just settling into their seats on their flight home, wearing matching self-satisfied grins, both highly pleased with the outcome of their trip.

"_Soon everything will be set right,"_ Yuki declared telepathically. Most of their public conversations were carried out in this way.

The two of them pulled out their laptops, and proceeded to busy themselves for the long journey.

"_I just got a message from Ruka,"_ Yuki mentioned, pleasantly surprised.

"_Oh, has she finally changed Dave?"_

"_No, I don't think that's it_." Yuki's eyes darted back and forth across the text on the screen, her expression abruptly becoming one of skeptical confusion. "Huh?" she grunted aloud.

"_What is it?"_ Freddie asked curiously.

"_This is really weird, here; I'll read it to you." _

"_Dear Obaachan, how have you been? Sorry I haven't kept in touch as much as I should have, but things have been pretty busy lately, I'm sure you're busy too. To be honest, I have a particular reason for contacting you, and as it's important, so I'll get right to the point._

"_Not long ago, Aka told me about some new guy she's seeing, she seems to have really fallen for him. But this is where it gets strange: apparently, he's a chiropteran, and was even when she first met him. From what Aka has told me, this guy, Jonah is his name, claims to be an amnesiac, with no memory of his life beyond six years ago, when he was found floating in the Pacific Ocean, not particularly far, either in time or location, from our mission at Kaho'olawe. Akahana is convinced that he poses no threat to anyone, and is actually a remnant of ancient times, someone who survived through the ages, like your Chevalier, the one who disappeared. She thinks that he was a prisoner/test subject, who had no real affinity to the Americans' chiropteran research. But I'm not so sure. I have a feeling that Aka may be under the influence of amorous idiocy syndrome, as we are all prone to be, at least once in our lives, and like most people in such circumstances, she seems to have no idea how stupid she's being._

"_I would really like to believe her, that he is some perfectly nice Chevalier from the past. That is why I am contacting you. There is no greater authority on ancient chiropterans then you. Please tell me what you can: if you know her assumption to be impossible, or any other information you think could possibly be even the slightest bit relevant to this situation. Attached to this message is a picture Aka sent me, of her and this guy, on the off chance that you might actually recognize him._

"_Please get back to me as soon as you can. I must admit, I am really worried about her. She hasn't answered any of my calls in days, which is really unlike her, even when she's mad at me._

"_Again, it would be much appreciated if you reply soon, so I'll know whether to chill out, or get on the first flight to New York and slap some sense into her._

_"Your loving granddaughter, _

_Ruka"_

Yuki turned and looked at her husband. _"Now what do you make of that? Certainly would be interesting if he was a Chevalier from the ancient clans."_

"_Well, to my knowledge, the last Chevalier, other than myself and those made in modern times, died over two millennia ago. Could you open up the picture file, my love?"_

Yuki did as he asked, and began telepathically voicing her analysis of the photo.

"_He looks Asian – you know, that makes me think that he might be a cast-off Groom, like you were! According to tradition, Grooms were always chosen by the Elders, and the Elders always lived in Asia – the lazy old bags tended to choose local boys – hence why our clan is from Northern Europe, but doesn't look it, because our biological fathers were always from '_back East.'"

"_-Your logic is sound, my love, but I'm afraid your conclusion is incorrect." _Freddie looked strangely rattled, an expression entirely out of place on him. _"That's definitely not an ancient Groom. That's Karl _Batshit_ Fei-Ong."_

* * *

End of Act I: Tabula Rasa

* * *

Preview of Act II: Synchronicity

While Saya prepares for what promises to be the mother of all tense family reunions, she has no idea that her niece is dating a man who was once obsessed with killing her. How could he be alive? And what's to be done? The triple simultaneous arcs (Saya/Haji, Solomon/Diva and Akahana/Karl) of this tale are now on a collision course.

* * *

Heehee – did you think _I _would waste that much of your time with a romance between two lame OCs?!

Well, do tell me what you think! I really do love, and pay attention to reviews!

Oh, and "magnusrae" gets the prize for calling Jonah's identity!


	9. Act 2: Synchronicity

_Hai Phong, French Indochina, 1920._

Amshel's instructions ran through Solomon's head as he stepped off the gangplank. They were very simple.

_Bring back a suitable candidate, to become a Chevalier. The only prerequisites are that they must be an adult male, they must speak either French or English, and they must be of "purely mongoloid descent."_

That, and it had to be quick. According to Amshel, Diva would likely be going into hibernation soon. By now, she barely had two or three waking hours in a day.

Solomon assumed that the racial criterion had to do with the recently deceased Grigori's experiments, and his subjects were mostly acquired from Asia, via illegal human trafficking. Before he died, Grigori was absolutely convinced that there was some great biological significance to Diva's Eastern appearance. It should be kept in mind that scientists put a great deal of stock in race, during this period. Solomon also assumed that Amshel had decided that when it came to making an actual Chevalier, the candidate had to come from better stock than the shivering, pitiful young girls that Grigori usually used.

Solomon found it rather odd that these were the only requirements, so much so, that he had added a few provisos of his own.

_He must be agreeable, both in looks and in attitude. Someone who Diva will like. And ideally, he should be someone with minimal connections. Someone who won't be missed._

All of a sudden, it had become a rather tall order, considering the time limit.

_It won't be easy to find such a man._

_But whoever he is, he's very lucky._

"Monsieur Goldsmith," a voice called from behind.

Solomon turned around, instinctively searching for a European face in the crowd, considering the familiar pronunciation. But he didn't see anyone that fit the description.

"Monsieur Goldsmith?"

This time he saw who said it, a sober-looking young man, wearing a smart, yet slightly out of date tuxedo, longish black hair pulled back in a low ponytail, a few bone-straight locks framing a particularly elegant Asian face.

"Yes?"

"I'm from the hotel, we received your telegram," the young man explained cordially, picking up Solomon's bags. "The city can be difficult to navigate for newcomers. I was sent to escort you."

The young man was speaking flawless French; the gears in Solomon's mind were already turning.

_Well, what a stroke of luck!_

The young man gestured to a waiting rickshaw.

"Oh, thank you."

Solomon climbed onto the seat, scooting to one side as the young man placed his luggage by his feet.

"Aren't you getting in?" Solomon asked, gesturing to the small space beside him.

"It would make it a bit heavy for the puller, sir. I'll run alongside."

Solomon chuckled. "Run? In that suit, in this heat? Nonsense, hop in. I'll give him a good tip."

The young man nodded and did as he was told, sitting snugly beside his client.

As the rickshaw rolled across town, Solomon took the opportunity to ask a few more calculated questions.

"I don't think you introduced yourself."

The young man looked up, appearing surprised to even be asked that question. "Karl, sir."

"Karl? Is that your real name?" Solomon asked, thinking it didn't sound like a name that would be common around here.

"Our hotel caters to high-level western guests, so all the employees use western names."

"Hmm," Solomon nodded thoughtfully. "What's your real name, then?"

Again the young man looked rather surprised, stuttering slightly as he answered. "Fei Ong, sir."

"Karl Fei Ong, eh? A pleasure to meet you."

The young man, Karl, now seemed genuinely suspicious, his expression clearly communicating a message of why are you being so nice to me?

"So, Karl, tell me, where did you learn to speak such beautiful French?"

Again, a nervous pause before his answer. "I was raised by missionaries, sir."

"So, you're an orphan?"

"Yes, sir."

"I see." Solomon paused. "Are you married?"

Solomon could barely contain his smile; this man was growing more perfect by the minute_. If he's an orphan and unmarried, then there probably won't be anyone to come looking for him._

Karl blushed slightly. "No, sir. Unfortunately, I am too poor. But I am saving my salary for that purpose."

"Who's the lucky girl?"

"I don't know yet, sir. I can decide later."

Solomon laughed. "Hah! If only more men had your good sense, Karl!"

The icy, sober look on Karl's face melted off, making way for an amiable smile. The rickshaw rolled to a stop, in front of a large, western-style hotel, and the promising young bellboy hopped out, still grinning as he insistently seized Solomon's bags, while Solomon tossed the rickshaw man a few coins, and the two walked inside. When Karl lagged, apparently thinking it proper to walk behind his client, Solomon deliberately slowed his pace to keep him at his side.

"Well Karl, I do hope I'll see more of you while I'm in town. I must say, I'm taking quite a liking to you."

Solomon slipped a beyond-generous tip into Karl's pocket.

_I was so pleased to have found him so quickly and with so little effort. As if it were fated._

And over the next few days, Solomon continued to go out of his way to speak to the bellboy, being as charming and friendly as possible.

_It reminded me so much of courting a lady – the most important objective is not to get them to like you, but to get them to trust you._

And over time, Karl seemed to loosen up, speaking more openly, less cold and nervous. _But I never really got him to talk about his childhood, how he came to be an orphan or his experiences at the missionary orphanage, though I do recall him saying something that implied that he ran away, sometime during his teens. I never knew if it was because he was abused in some way, or if he was prone to act on his flights of fancy, even then._

By the time a few days had passed, the two seemed like good friends.

"Solomon," Karl spoke admiringly, one night over drinks. "I have to say – this is the first time a – guest – has treated me this way."

Solomon chuckled. "Well, that's because you're a bellboy. Trust me, bellboys in Europe don't get much respect, either."

"Still, it is – nice to be treated like a human being."

Solomon decided that it was time to make his move. "Karl, I've been thinking," he said pleasantly, putting down his glass. "There is something I have neglected to mention – my reason for traveling to Indochina. You see, I work for a successful company owned by my big brother, he sent me here because he's thinking of expanding operations into the Orient. I was tasked with finding someone who could give him insight into that market and bringing them back to Paris with me, specifically someone with minimal business experience, who could be trained to fit the position. And I no longer have any doubts that you are exactly what he has in mind."

Karl's jaw dropped. "Y-you want me to go to Paris?" he stuttered.

"Very much. You'll be guaranteed an excellent position, with generous pay, ample opportunity for advancement, and the benefits are – let's say they're _unheard of_, in any other company. It really is an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

"Me, go to Paris," he repeated, now sounding quite excited.

"I assume you'll need a day or two to think about it."

"Not really! I would be a complete fool if I refused!" Karl exclaimed vehemently, "I thought I was lucky to have my current job, but this! It's the sort of thing that I never even had the nerve to dream of, until you said it, just now!"

"So, I'll take that as a yes."

At the time, Solomon found it somewhat odd that Karl just accepted, right then and there – that he agreed to leave everything he'd ever known, travel across the world with a virtual stranger, and take a job which he had no experience at.

_And the next day, we were on a ship, bound for France._

Solomon didn't feel even the slightest bit guilty for lying to him. On the contrary, he congratulated himself for his good deed; this young man would be getting the gift of eternal youth, and the opportunity to serve Diva, and in Solomon's mind, this could not possibly be undesirable, for anyone. Not to mention, Solomon thought he knew exactly what Amshel had planned for this new Chevalier, after all, Grigori had just died, and Solomon promoted to second in command – logically the new Chevalier would be taking Solomon's former place. Amshel, in his usual way, withheld his true intentions. Solomon really didn't know about the experiments his elder brother had planned.

But Solomon had also decided that giving Karl the details of what would happen upon their arrival would have only made him unnecessarily nervous. He might have said no out of fear, when, in Solomon's opinion, it was really an offer that no one in their right mind should refuse.

There wasn't even a tinge of remorse when Karl was led into Diva's room, nor when Karl called out the name of his new friend in confusion and fear, not so much begging for help, but for some sort of explanation, as if he were really saying what's going on? I trusted you…

Just like the second time Solomon delivered him into death.

…

An express train raced through the station and back into its dark labyrinth, briefly catching Solomon's attention enough to bring reality back into view, if not into focus. He had completely lost himself in that nostalgic reverie he'd been so prone to, lately.

_Karl should have hated me for tricking him – he did, for a little while. But a little persuasion and reintroducing him to Diva (if only for a few minutes, she went into hibernation literally the day after Karl woke up) seemed to make him realize that he should welcome his fate._

Solomon flinched_. That, and Amshel's outright lies – telling Karl that his submission to those dissections was for Diva's sake, that the knowledge gained would be vital to her cause, and that the only other option would be to experiment on Diva herself, that every torture Karl submitted to was a torture he was shielding Diva from. Amshel even told him that Diva would be grateful, and almost certainly make him her mate… Karl didn't get to know her well enough to realize how unlikely that was, and I didn't have the heart to contradict it. He went on believing it for decades. He was so devoted then, not unlike James, only far less of a bore. Even then, Karl lived according to his passion – and in those days, his passion was Diva._

_But when Diva woke up in the early sixties, Karl was finally given the opportunity to – well, the same opportunity I was given. It was only after the rejection that he began to become more – affected._

He blinked slowly, trying to bring himself back into the present. Solomon was standing, back leaning against a subway station wall, waiting for a particular passenger that, according to his observations, typically arrived around this time, on his way home from his girlfriend's house.

_I have to. I have no choice. Every day that Karl is alive is a day that Saya is in danger._

Strangely, the idea of Saya being in harm's way wasn't quite as unthinkable as it used to be, but he still saw it as an issue that had to be addressed sooner rather than later. So Solomon had put off this chore for several days, and then spent several more on reconnaissance, discretely following his resurrected little brother. It just happened that Solomon's own stalker appeared to have been left behind in California.

_I have to._

Solomon had been given the explosive news about his brother almost immediately after Diva's parents arrived back home.

…

"So, how'd it go?" Yuki asked the two of them upon entering the house

"Good," Diva answered cheerfully.

"Pretty well," Solomon added.

"Anything interesting happen?" Freddie asked.

"Not really," Solomon answered casually.

"No unexpected guests?"

"No, only Diva's friends and the gardener."

"Oh good, Ignacio came by – I swear, the man is a treasure," Freddie then changed the subject so suddenly as to make the next one seem like part of the same sentence, "Solomon, can I have a word with you in my study?" he asked, still ostensibly cheerful and calm.

"Why, what's going on?" Diva asked nosily.

"Oh nothing interesting," her dad reassured her, "just gonna pick his brain for stock tips."

That lie had the desired effect; Diva skipped over to her mother, and began rattling off ideas for entertaining Saya, when she arrived.

Solomon followed his elder brother down the hall and into an open door – it wasn't anything like a typical study, the walls were lined in foam egg-crate, and an open closet door revealed an arsenal of various exotic musical instruments. The room was split in half with a thick pane of glass, and a computer that was actually large enough not to be portable, plus a few office chairs.

_Obviously a recording studio._

As soon as the door was shut behind them, Freddie's habitual smug expression vanished, replaced by a rather grave, almost worried look, which Solomon found to be rather alarming.

_What could be so troubling as to worry Nathan?_

"What is it? What happened?" Solomon asked eagerly, uncharacteristic concern creeping on to his face as well. "Did Saya change her mind? Has she refused to meet her?"

"No, fortunately, that's still on," Freddie sighed. "I'm afraid this is a bit more out of left field."

"What happened?" Solomon asked again.

Freddie pushed a rolling desk chair over to Solomon. "Here, you'll want to be sitting down when you hear this."

Solomon did as he was told, and his elder brother took a seat directly in front of him.

Freddie sighed again before he began. "What have you heard about Akahana's new boyfriend?"

"In terms of her love-life, last I heard, she was on hiatus with Joel."

"Ah, well, that answers that question. Now then, let me bring you up to speed. Little Aka appears to have moved on to a different beau. Apparently they met by chance, working at the same hospital. But here's where it gets a bit weird. He's a Chevalier."

"She changed him already?"

"No, that's the _bit-weird_ part." Freddie then regurgitated all of the information he'd gathered thus far, both from the email and from a subsequent cautious phone call to Ruka. He recited it much as one would when recounting a frustrating day at work. Of course, he withheld only the most crucial fact, aiming for dramatic effect, even in such a serious situation. "Now, here's where it gets _profoundly_ weird."

The ancient Chevalier pulled out his cell phone, and pulled up a particular picture file. "Have a look. That's him."

At first glance, it was a charming image, two happy young people, each with their arm over the other's shoulder, obviously very much in love.

But it didn't take Solomon more than a second to recognize the face of the young man.

"Nathan, what have you done?" Solomon whispered.

"Strangely enough, this is not my fault, not directly anyway."

For a few seconds, Solomon was altogether too shocked and conflicted for speech. Diva's resurrection was entirely expected, compared to this.

By the time he found his voice, he was very much done with disbelieving murmurs. "Nathan, you really expect me to believe that?! How else could this have happened?! And you say they're dating?! This has _you_ written all over it!"

The scheming Chevalier glared, and sounded veritably defensive. "Use your head, you idiot! I may have a history of matchmaking and bringing people back from the dead – but think, will you?! For all my scheming, you should be able to recognize that there isn't a single thing I haven't done without good reason! And what the hell reason could I possibly have for bringing Karl back – the only thing he was good for was pissing off Amshel and James, and that's not really a factor nowadays, is it? And why the hell would I want him to hook up with Aka?! The match is a reproductive dead-end; it cannot result in a new pair of full-blooded Queens! I would have much rather had her grow-the-fuck-up and knight the stable, boring guy!"

Solomon shook his head. "Do you expect me to believe that, out of twenty billion people on this planet, they just happened to end up together, working at the same hospital?!"

"I know! I would agree with you if they weren't in Manhattan, working a stone's throw away from Lincoln Center. We both know that Aka went there out of a sentimental connection with her dead mother, and I'd imagine Karl went there because it was Diva's last known whereabouts, he must have known that Diva's big debut would be in New York, and once he got there, he was probably drawn to that particular area of downtown because the place is strewn trace elements of Diva, due to the explosion, four decades ago. He would have ended up there, no matter what, I mean, look at you! You dumped Diva, but you still choose to live in Manhattan."

Off topic as it was, Solomon had to add his two cents. "That's not why I -"

"Not consciously, at least," Freddie interrupted. "I know you suffer under the delusion that your blood doesn't affect your behavior and emotions, but I digress."

Solomon then asked the obvious question. "If it wasn't your doing, how else could this have happened?"

"To be honest, I'm not completely sure, but I do have a pretty good idea. Now, pay attention, this gets a bit complicated. Think. In this equation, the only number we know is the answer; blank plus blank equals Karl-alive. What ingredients would be needed to bring Karl back to life? Karl's body, and Yuki's blood. The first variable – Yuki's blood -"

"And who else would have access to that?!" Solomon demanded.

"Quiet!" Freddie snapped. "Now, do you recall anything about the incident at the Miyagusuku–Jahana residence a few years back? The one where I was supposedly made a Chevalier?"

"I wasn't there, but I did hear about it."

"Well, I believe I mentioned, some time ago, that I had been keeping an eye on Kadena just before that, and that I had been able to overhear that they planned to attack, and that their goal was to obtain a blood-sample from Yuki. It seems that even they were able to surmise that Yuki was Saya's mother, I mean, what other explanation could there have been, and they wanted her blood for testing. If you don't want to take my word for it, ask anyone who was present at the fight, assassination was obviously not their objective, and they took off immediately after they managed to wound her."

"So, you're saying that the American's chiropteran research program had Yuki's blood? You're saying that they are responsible for this?"

"Now, on to variable two – Karl. Tell me, Solomon, what happened to Karl's remains, after he died?"

Solomon looked down. "I sent a crew back to collect him," he said quietly. "Somehow, I just couldn't stand the idea of him ending up in the hands of the Red Shield."

Freddie laughed derisively. "Ah, the skewed conscience of Solomon Goldsmith rears its ugly head!" his voice lowered back to his serious tone. "And what happened after that?"

"I actually wanted to have him buried at Lycee du Cinque Fleches, but Amshel wouldn't allow it. I was already on his bad side, so I didn't press the matter. I suppose Karl's fate was the same in death as it was in lif; he was carted off to the lab."

"-In other words, Karl's remains became the property of Cinque Fleches labs."

"Yes."

"Now, I know you were clever enough to get fired, but what happened to Cinque Fleches' chiropteran research materials after it went down in flames?"

Solomon thought for a moment. "I was the one who signed the original contract between Cinque Fleches and the Department of Defense. I recall there was a clause that stated that all research materials related to the project were technically the property of the US government, and they would take possession if the contract were to be terminated or violated. They didn't trust us anymore than we trusted them, but it didn't seem like a problem to me at the time, since if anything went wrong, we could have used James to straighten it out." Solomon's voice took on a distinct thoughtful quality, that made it entirely evident that he'd solved the puzzle. "It had occurred to me that the US inherited all of our materials, but I wasn't concerned about it. I assumed they would be smart enough to destroy the evidence."

"I thought so too," Freddie lamented dramatically, "It did occur to me that the US had Yuki's blood, and might still have had a mound of red Karl-rubble sitting around somewhere, but I didn't worry about it. I believed it was too damn unlikely that they would put the two together. Clearly I have made one of the classic mistakes of history."

"Playing god?" Solomon muttered.

"No. Underestimating the reckless ingenuity of Americans," Freddie groaned. "I should have fucking known!"

Solomon was almost awed at how genuinely angry his brother sounded. He had never seen him get anywhere beyond slightly pissy.

"Hindsight is 20/20, but should have fucking known," Freddie repeated. "Dr. Busty Silverstein even said so! Remember, she said that Collins actually had a theory about the mother's blood, that wasn't too far off from reality!"

"Oh," Solomon said thoughtfully, "the lab was run by his protégé; of course he would want to test his mentor's theory." He paused. "So that's why he was laughing when he said that he couldn't save Saya – he was lying through his teeth. Though it is strange. He must have known that I would kill him if he didn't tell, and yet he still withheld that information."

"Well," Freddie grunted, "I suppose he might have not been a total idiot, and known that you were so pissed, you would have killed him either way. That and keep in mind, in terms of his project and fellow corpse corps, Saya was the single greatest threat on earth. He would have wanted her gone."

Solomon frowned skeptically. "You really think he was willing to give his life to protect his little brothers?"

Freddie shrugged. "The little twit may have been a little more noble than he looked." His mind seemed to shift back to the crisis at hand. "And this couldn't have come at a fucking worse time!" He stomped his feet histrionically. "I had a feeling my streak of luck would end, but did it have to end right now?! We're so damn close!"

Solomon's thoughts seemed to turn to another aspect of the situation. "The amnesia – do you think he's really forgotten everything?"

"I don't doubt it. If he didn't, then we would have heard from him by now."

"He would have gone after Saya," Solomon added.

Freddie crossed his arms, "I'd be a bit worried about my _own_ hide, if I were you. Keep in mind, you were just as responsible for his death as Saya. But you were his only friend, and you helped your mutual enemy kill him. That's gotta hurt."

Solomon didn't really respond to that, half because he didn't want to acknowledge it, and half because yet something else had just occurred to him.

"Perhaps we're thinking of this all wrong," Solomon declared, regaining his usual pleasant optimism. "After all, Karl was just the same as Diva – they weren't evil, they were - _damaged_. And now Karl is getting a second chance too. What could be more ideal?"

"Yes and we'll all get together as one big family, and lick lollypops while skipping around the maypole!" Freddie groaned sarcastically. "He and Diva are two completely difference situations. What you're forgetting is that while Karl may have had the gayest costume ever – and that's saying something coming from me – but he is not a Queen. Amnesia is not natural for a Chevalier, neither Yuki nor I have ever heard of such a thing. I strongly suspect that Karl's memory loss has more to do with his being crazy, than his being a Chiropteran! Probably good old-fashioned repression. His past is painful, so he subconsciously chose to forget it." Freddie scooted his chair closer, for emphasis. "With a Queen, the return of her memories can be controlled via the blood of awakening. There is no such mechanism for a Chevalier. I'd imagine that this will play out much in the way of human global retrograde amnesia, when it actually happens – those memories will be back. All that needs to happen is for Karl to come in contact with some kind of reminder of his past, it'll likely open the floodgates," he said ominously. "And with him dating Aka, I seriously doubt we have very long until that happens."

"Why? He never met her in the past."

"Any number of things – her various similarities to Diva, not to mention, what do you think will happen when she casually brings up her family history, or better yet, tries to introduce him to her extended family, as she no doubt wants to do as soon as possible? What do you think will happen when he lays eyes on Saya or you?" Freddie sighed yet again. "If it wasn't for Aka, I'd say that Karl's memories might come back tomorrow, or they might come back in a hundred years… but with Aka nearby -"

"I see your point." Solomon paused for a long moment. "We have to warn Saya."

"No! She can't be told of this!" the elder brother insisted.

"But we have to. You just said that his memories could come back at any time, and when they do, he'll try to kill her."

"I know, but Saya's on pins and needles about Diva as it is! The last thing we need is to add a layer of eggshells on top! It'll make Saya even more nervous and combative, muck up this meeting! I'm sure I don't need to explain to you why it is absolutely essential that things go as smoothly as possible."

Solomon nodded. "I suppose you're right, but what else can we do?"

Freddie rolled his eyes. "Do I really have to spell it out for you?"

Hearing that from an older brother gave Solomon some rather intense déjà vu, his fingers knitted together tensely. He knew exactly what his brother meant.

"Is that really necessary?" Solomon sighed.

"Karl is an imminent threat to the safety of our clan. Therefore, he must be eliminated," Freddie declared firmly.

"But he hasn't done anything."

The elder brother glared condescendingly. "So you'd rather Saya wake up tomorrow night to find a delusional ghost mouth-breathing an inch from her face?! Not to mention, what do you think will happen if he finds out that Diva's alive and hasn't had the blood of awakening? I guarantee he'll take it upon himself to do the honors."

Solomon closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. "Fine then. I'll take care of it. I'm going to New York anyway. It makes sense."

Freddie looked surprised. "Oh – well, actually I was planning on handling it myself; I know you had a soft spot for the little nut-bar."

Solomon wondered if this big brother really was more merciful than the last, or if he just didn't trust him to actually do it.

"I think you'll agree that dealing with Karl has always been a specialty of mine. I killed him once, why should it bother me to do it again?" Solomon stated in the serenely cold-blooded manner he'd mastered over a century ago.

It might have seemed strange that even someone as hardened and remorseless as Solomon would volunteer to kill their own amnesiac little brother. But his offer had nothing to do with a desire to be helpful; it was almost entirely due to an undeniable compulsion to see this new Karl for himself.

"Well, I can't pretend I'm not glad to hear that; I wasn't at all sure how I'd fit a trip and a murder into my schedule." Freddie shot him a suspicious glance. "I want you to swear that you won't flake out on this."

Solomon obliged, sounding more sure of his oath than he actually was.

…

And here he was, preparing to fulfill it, still unsure.

Mind engulfed in turmoil, his eyes wandered absently over an advertisement on the wall opposite him, depicting a candy bar. He laughed out loud, completely inexplicable to anyone but himself. In his mind, it was in reference to a private joke.

Just a few days prior, when he'd first arrived back at his apartment, just when he was beginning to succumb to the memories of disappointment and rejection embedded in its walls, he began unpacking his things, and found something laid on top of the neatly folded clothes. Something he hadn't put there.

A chocolate bar. He instantly knew that Diva had to have put it there, a benign prank related to that brief statement he'd made about having liked chocolate, at one point.

He laughed. Hard. So hard that by the time he was done, he had collapsed onto a chair, bouncing shoulders and teary cheeks aching from what must have been the best laugh he'd had in years. He couldn't even quite explain why it was so extremely funny, but it was.

Perhaps it was the irony of the implied encouragement to get in touch with his lost humanity, from the woman who'd made him a chiropteran. Perhaps it was because of the implied trivialization of his initial wartime trauma; to him, that candy bar seemed to say _that sucks, but it's time to get over it_. Or perhaps it was because that one little gesture seemed to sum up this new version of Diva, entirely – the same, yet different. Diva had always had a predilection for playing pranks on him, but in the old days these pranks were considerably less pleasant, sneaking up on him and then ripping off one of his arms, or eating his secretary and leaving the remains out where he would be sure to find them, like a cat does with a dead mouse or bird. However, even in such cases, he never could help laughing.

_Diva_…

…

Solomon opened the front door with one hand, holding his suitcase in the other.

"So I guess you're leaving now," Diva sighed, barely even trying to hide her unhappiness at that prospect.

"As it turns out I have some urgent business to take care of in New York, I'm flying out and leaving my car here; I'll be back in a few weeks."

"Really?!" she exclaimed, but her ecstatic expression promptly melted back into disappointment. "Oh, I guess you - mean when my sister gets here."

…

That thought of Diva brought his mind back to the task at hand.

_Nathan is right. If Karl's memories return, and he discovers that Diva is alive, he will try to force her memories upon her. He carries her blood, the same as I do._

It was just then that he sensed a familiar presence stepping off a newly arrived train. Solomon's fingers clasped together rigidly.

In terms of an ideal setting for murder, Karl's apartment initially seemed like the best choice – but the only option would have been to wait for the roommate to leave, for Karl to be alone. But Solomon knew that probably wouldn't work too well, as he knew from experience that it would be next to impossible to sneak up on Karl, if he was alone.

But the subway tunnels tended to have a slightly disorienting effect on a chiropteran's echo location. Enough to make a sneak attack possible. Unfortunately, despite it's being the middle of the night, there were far too many people around for him to do his deed here, on the platform itself.

Solomon watched from a distance as the young man strolled away from the train. Karl seemed to be grinning to himself and humming a contemporary pop song; he couldn't have looked less deserving of death if he'd tried. Knowing that he'd probably just left Aka, Solomon couldn't help thinking of himself a few days ago on the way to the airport, silently singing that old song that had always made him think of Diva, and now he found it stuck in his head all over again.

_She's a witch of trouble in electric blue, in her own mad mind she's in love with you…_

Again, he had to force himself to focus. It's so easy to get distracted from something you don't want to do, anyway.

_I'll have to lure him over to a slightly more isolated area. _

Fortunately, he'd already scoped out such a location. He flashed over a nearby barrier of caution tape, down an adjacent hallway that had been sectioned off for construction, passing over white-speckled rags and cardboard boxes, past a wall that was only half-tiled as of yet, and then positioning himself just behind a convenient, square steel pillar.

"_Hey, you_," Solomon called out, telepathically.

A particular young man came to a dead stop on the platform.

"Who said that?" he asked out loud.

"_Yes, you_."

Jonah jerked around, facing in Solomon's direction. "What the hell?" he muttered, twisting a finger in his ear, as if to dislodge some foreign object.

"_Over here_."

Jonah took a few cautious steps toward the hallway Solomon was hiding in.

_You know, Karl, it's really not that I want to do this,_ Solomon thought, as if still communicating telepathically, but in fact keeping the thoughts entirely in his own head. _You seem so much like your old self, and by that, I mean before you lost your mind._ Solomon smiled to himself._ Even when I first got to know you, you were impetuous and a bit moody, but that's what I loved about you._

_I felt nothing, but you felt everything. I suppose that's why Diva's rejection hit you so hard… but it wasn't until the Vietnam mission that you really became harder to control. Poor Karl, you built it up in your mind so, you believed that if you succeeded in both objectives – destroying relations between the Red Shield and the US military, and killing Saya – you would finally earn Diva's love, and our respect. And then to come home, not a victorious hero, but a crippled failure… I think you distanced yourself from us out of shame._

_But still I admired you, I wished I could have done the same, distance myself from Amshel. Even when I'd began to recognize that you were a little_ off_, I admired how you could spend most of the day, in complete control of yourself, but every now and then, completely loose your demons, like with those school girls. That's not to say that I had any desire to seduce and murder young girls, it's just that I wish I had the capacity to feel the pure rage and passion necessary to do such a thing._

_Even at the end, when I began to realize that you'd lost your grip on reality, I still envied you. Reality is highly overrated. You made going mad looks so liberating – until the very end, when I realized how much pain you were in._

_Perhaps I already have gone mad before. Really, was there ever that much of a difference between us, other than that my plan was to live with Saya, instead of to die with her? And in these last few years, I suppose I've learned what it is to love and hate someone, at the same time. And I was under the same delusion that you were, that Saya loved me, refusing to recognize her refusal. _

_Or perhaps love is inherently delusional – the idea that if we can just have this one person in our lives, everything will be perfect forever. Marriage and other vows of eternal love are all based on the delusion that we can see the future, else, how would we know that we want to be with that person forever, know that they would never hurt us, that no circumstance could ever change our feelings? It's absurd, really. Love is just a glorified form of madness._

He chuckled at himself.

_God, I sound like a bitter old maid._

_Come to think of it, I suppose, in some way, deciding to pursue Saya so rashly had a lot to do with you, Karl. In the past, I'd always sort of lived vicariously through your recklessness and emotional volatility, but it was only standing over your crystallized remains that I finally had the nerve to cross the line between questioning authority, and outright traitor… 'Diva is in transit…'_

_I never really thought about it like that before, but I suppose it was almost as if I was channeling your spirit, or something._

His prey turned the corner into the hallway, ducking under the caution tape.

_I need to stop thinking about this. I need to stop thinking period._

_I'll have to kill him here. A quick decapitation, no scream, no struggle, no pain. I'll have to drag him elsewhere to finish him; good thing I have that big fireplace and a housekeeper whose paid not to ask questions._

The slow approaching clicks of Jonah's heels echoed off the bare walls. He was only a few dozen feet away, close enough to smell.

_Karl and I were – we were like the same person, only with Karl taking things to greater extremes. _

_I was unhappy; Karl was suicidally depressed._

_I was sick with loneliness; he went mad with it._

_I was tired of obeying Amshel; Karl routinely disobeyed him._

_I suppose I followed in Karl's footsteps – both of us, destroyed by an obsession with the same woman – and now, we are both getting a second chance…_

_We were so similar, like real, blood brothers, in every way._

_Then again…_

It might have seemed odd that there could be an awkward pause in someone's own inner monolog, but that was exactly what happened just then, in Solomon's mind.

… _I've never really considered myself bisexual. I'm not really._

_But… I cannot honestly deny that there was something. Not founded on passion, but on logic. I found him aesthetically appealing, and truly liked him as a person. That's more than I could say for other lovers._

_Still, it's not like we ever actually…_

… _I must stop thinking._

Solomon drew a deep breath along with his weapon, his little brother was very close now.

"Hello?" Jonah's face bore that same inquisitively nervous look it had when he'd first been presented to Diva, "Who's there?"

This _man hasn't done anything_, Solomon thought warily, _there has to be another way._

_But he presents a significant threat to Saya's life and Diva's – peace of mind._

_I really don't want to do this. But there is no other way. _

_There has to be another way._

_I shouldn't be hesitating. I've done it before. But those times were different. Killing Martin wasn't hard, at least in any emotional way. I never liked the man, anyway. And when Karl died - that was completely different from now. He was literally in the act of killing Saya. She would have died, had I hesitated only a few seconds. Could I have done it, if not for that?_

_Either way, I have to, now. You can do this, Solomon. Just don't think. Just don't think. He's not a person, he's an obstacle._

_As long as he's with Aka, there is too great a risk of his recovering his memories._

And in that very last quarter of a second, when Karl was literally within an arm's reach, something stayed his hand. An idea.

_Wait, that's it! He doesn't have to die. I don't have to kill him._

Solomon had recalled something his elder brother had said, a few days ago. _Nathan as good as said that if not for Aka, Karl would probably go for decades without remembering._

Of course, that wasn't exactly what had been said, but that was how Solomon recalled it.

Despite this incautious decision not to kill his brother, Solomon did recognize that under no circumstances could this man be allowed to see his face. Solomon disappeared in a top-speed flash, too quick for even a chiropteran to have seen him clearly. Within a second, Solomon was back on the surface, on a rooftop, half a mile away, beaming with pride at his own mercy and rectitude. It was hard to say if the stay of execution was due to real affection and sympathy, or if this was just a selfish man avoiding an unpleasant task. Was he developing genuine compassion? Or had it been there the entire time, just reserved exclusively for the elite few people he even remotely cared about?

_Though, I don't know why I feel so relieved._

_What I have to do now is only slightly less cruel than murder._

Meanwhile, Jonah was left standing in that hallway, utterly rattled and confounded. Even though he hadn't seen the face attached to that mysterious voice, he had certainly seen someone rush away at a speed only attainable by one of his own kind.

"Wait!" he called out, frantic and serious. He instantly discounted the thought that it could have been Aka playing a trick on him. "Wait! Come back!"

He rushed down the hallway, and back onto the platform, searching for the enigmatic presence.

"You know don't you!" he shouted in despair, vocalizing a shadowy, yet overwhelming intuition. "Who are you?! Who am I?!"

He was actually loud and passionate enough to gain one very brief, annoyed glare from one of the many passersby.

* * *

Don't hold back on the reviews/cristicism! It really does inspire me to get off my ass and write (or sit on my ass and write, as the case generally is).


	10. Told You So

Another day off, Jonah came over in the morning. But as he walked in through the door, using his own set of keys, he seemed a little less perky than he usually was under such circumstances. Rather distant and thoughtful.

"I heard this weird guy talking to me in the subway station, last night," he commented insecurely, first thing.

Aka gasped, melodramatically sarcastic. "_No_ way! They have weird people in the subway? I had no idea!"

"Oh, not the _normal_ kind of weird, just –" he laughed uncomfortably. "Eh, never mind." He changed the subject quite abruptly, as if he'd doubted the reality of what had happened, and thus it was better to keep it to himself. His tone became less puzzled than generally frustrated. "My laptop died this morning! And the shop says I won't have it back until next Thursday! Damn it! I need that thing for work, for typing up transcripts!"

"Calm down, calm down," she giggled. "You can use mine!"

"Are you sure? Don't you need it?"

"Nah, I only use that one for messing around during breaks, and nowadays, I spend all my breaks messing around with you. I can just use the one in my office, if I need it."

"You're a life saver!" he whispered, moving in for a kiss.

Her phone rang the instant before their lips touched, and they both sighed in disappointment. Aka reached into her pocket, but found that Jonah was already holding her phone, grinning mischievously and flipping it open.

"Hello, June's dry-cleaning, June speaking," he greeted the caller, not even trying to mask his voice.

"Give me that!" she laughed, snatching the phone and putting it to her ear. "Sorry about that, my dumbass boyfriend is being a dumbass!"

"Hello."

She recognized that placid voice. "Oh, hi ojisan! How are you? Are you in town? There's someone I really want you to meet!"

"Akahana, there's something rather serious I need to talk to you about. Can you ask your – friend – to leave?"

She furrowed her brows. "Why? Is something wrong? Is everyone okay?"

"Just please ask him to leave."

The comparatively grave tone of his voice had her really nervous; she was envisioning some horrible accident, some family member killed. She pressed her finger over the receiver.

"Sweetie, do you think that you could go? It sounds like something major is going down at home. I'll call you as soon as I figure out what the hell is going on."

"Is everything alright?"

"I dunno. It sounds like it probably isn't. I'll tell you all about it later."

He nodded and reluctantly left the apartment, picking up her laptop on the way out.

She removed her thumb. "Okay, he's gone," she huffed irritably. "Now what's going on? Is everyone okay?!"

She heard her uncle sigh before speaking. "Everyone is fine, as far as I know. This actually concerns your friend."

"Jonah? How do you even know about him?"

"I happened to be at your grandmother's house when she received a message from your sister. It had a picture attachment."

"What?" Aka howled. "I bet she was trying to get everyone to call and yell at me, huh? Is that why you're calling me? I wouldn't have thought _you'd_ be the first, you left me alone about –"

"Akahana, I know who he _was_," Solomon interjected.

She instantly stopped her ranting. "What do you mean?"

"Just what I said."

Her voice raised in excitement. "Well, what are you waiting for? Who was he?!"

"He was my brother. One of your mother's chevaliers. His name was Karl."

It took her a moment to absorb that, and respond.

"But they're all dead, except for you…"

"Yes, that _was_ true. But apparently the American's chiropteran research program managed to steal some of your grandmother's blood during an incident a few years ago. They used it to bring him back to life."

_I guess that makes sense._

"Hmmm, Karl," Aka sighed whimsically, "It's been so long since I've read anything about my mom's Chevaliers; which one is that? Is that the cute, uptight army-guy that Nathan used to talk about?"

Solomon knew just how to explain it. "I'm sending you some photos. I had to dig rather deep in my storage unit to find the first one; the second is actually from the Red Shield database."

Aka pulled the phone away from her ear, and scrolled through a pair of pictures, one in black and white, of the two brothers standing beside a veiled woman, sitting with her hands folded primly in her lap; the other was far more recent, a color photo of a dim and blurred battle, and a man in a caped tuxedo with long black hair, wearing a rather campy bat-mask.

"The one with the stupid costumes?!" she yelped.

"Yes."

"Oh my god," she stammered, staring at the second picture. "I remember now, I saw that photo before, but with the mask, I didn't recognize – I read that bit about him in the diary, he was – the _crazy _one! Wow… that's not going to be quite as fun to tell him."

"You cannot tell him any of this, Akahana."

"Why not?! It's his _life_!"

"And it's his life that I'm concerned about."

"W-what do you mean?" she asked cautiously.

"If you tell him any of this, it will likely result in his remembering the rest, on his own. Akahana, Karl was just like your mother, in that he was not _evil_, he was, to put it colloquially, he was – messed up. But unfortunately, that doesn't really change anything. If he regains his memories, he will also regain the elements of his past that made him the way he was."

"So – you're saying that if he remembers, he might go crazy?"

"I don't think there's any _might _about it. Any reminder of his past could be the trigger, and Akahana, I fear that you will, however inadvertently, act as that reminder. As long as you are with him, the chances of him recovering his memories are infinitely greater. Resemblance between you and your mother, your family history –"

"Well, what do you want me to do about it?!" she snapped.

"You have to – remove yourself from his life," he stated resolutely.

"What?! No!"

"It is the only way you can help him to hold onto his current self. If he regains his memories, his madness will not be far behind."

"No…" she whimpered.

"You must."

"But," she whispered miserably, "if I dump him, it'll break his heart."

"I know that you must love each other very much," Solomon said, truly sympathetic, "and it will certainly hurt him, in the short term, but in time, he will be able to move on with his life. The important thing is that he will still be alive."

Aka squinted in furious suspicion. "What do you mean, _still be alive_?" She gasped. "You're saying that you're going to kill him, aren't you?!"

"Akahana, please understand," he continued calmly. "If Karl regains his memories, he will try to kill Saya and god only knows who else. You must realize that I cannot allow that to happen."

Terrified of that prospect as she was, she didn't bother to argue with him. She knew that for Solomon, Saya's safety was entirely non-negotiable.

"I'd heard people say it before," she murmured spitefully, "but you really _are _a cold-blooded bastard."

"Akahana, I take offense to that in this context," he replied, voice very slightly raised. "I am doing the best I can. If I was as you say, I would have killed him already; he would have disappeared, and you would never have known what happened to him. But Akahana, I don't want to kill him; I _want _him to have this second chance. Please understand that I am taking an awful risk here, because there was a time when I cared for him very much, and I suppose a part of me still cares for him. I know that you care for him too, and that is why I know that you'll make this sacrifice, for his own good."

"No, I can't…" Aka wept.

"Yes you can," Solomon said comfortingly, "I know that you can. I've known you almost since you were born; I know the way you were raised, that when someone you love is in danger, no sacrifice is too great. I am sorry to be the one to break this news to you. But I know that you'll do the right thing." He paused, voice becoming even more sincere. "And I'm sure that I hardly need tell you that I _do_ know what it's like to hinge all your hopes on one person, and then to be divided by circumstances not of your own making. But Akahana, I can honestly say that the pain _does_ diminish, and in time, you will find someone else. You will be alright, and I know that you'll do the right thing."

The dial-tone sounded, and the phone dropped out of her hand.

"It's not fair!" she sobbed, sinking to her knees. "It's not fair. It's not fair. It's not fair…"

* * *

Akahana stood in the front room of her apartment, like a trapdoor spider, waiting for a kill. She'd spend a good deal of the morning reading every passage in the diary she could find that was related to Karl Fei-Ong, in hopes that it would change her view of him, and make all of this easier. But even after reading all that, she didn't feel any hate or fear. All she could do was pity him.

The only thing she was grateful for was the ease of the decision itself. Deciding to leave him because he had said something mean or displayed interest in someone else, would have been harder - it would have been accompanied by the urge to work it out.

But _leave him or he dies –_ there was no dilemma there. Of course, she'd do anything she could to save his life.

The buzzer finally rang, and his voice was heard from the speaker by the door.

"Red? Are you there? You said you'd call, but you didn't, I left you a few messages. I'm worried about you; is everything okay?"

She silently buzzed him in, taking advantage of the delay caused by a twenty-nine story elevator ride, running into the bathroom to splash her face with cold water, in hopes of erasing the tearstains, and then applying some eye drops. She finished just in time to meet him at the door with a blank, emotionless expression.

"What's wrong?" he asked, heartwarmingly concerned.

She passed a few deep breaths, and finally spoke, straining to sound as cold as possible.

"It's over, Jonah."

"What's over?"

"We are."

He just looked puzzled, rather understandable considering how sudden this was. "You're breaking up with me?"

She nodded, just barely choking back a sob.

Jonah stepped toward her, not looking sad or angry, but even more concerned than before. "Akahana, what's wrong? You can tell me, what happened?" he asked, not seeming to acknowledge what she was saying. It was impossible to determine whether this disbelief was out of neurotic denial, or if he truly knew her well enough to suspect that she didn't mean it.

It took every last ounce of her self control to step back, evading an embrace, but not a comforting hand on her shoulder.

_God, a hug is exactly what I need, right now._

"It's just over, Jonah. I can't be with you anymore."

She could tell that her message was starting to sink in; the foreseen shock and sadness were starting to creep into his countenance. "But – why? Just yesterday, you said –"

"It just is!" All of those perfect words she'd spent all afternoon composing and rehearsing, that perfect explanation, designed to make him hate her just enough to make the breakup easier to get over – it seemed to have completely vanished from her mind. "Now please leave! And please don't contact me again!" she shouted, trying to apply some of her profound anger at the situation to her performance.

Jonah's body swayed backwards slightly, as if the words were a stone, hitting squarely in the chest.

"Please leave!" she repeated, voice wobbling.

But he didn't, instead, he leaned closer, looming over her, as that hand on her shoulder shifted, gripping her upper arm, as bruising as a vice.

"No," he said, voice now terrifyingly dark, eyes briefly flashing red. She didn't struggle, she just felt the fear wash over her face.

But as she looked up at him, his countenance seemed to change again, voice less colored by anger than helpless despair, tears now coursing over his cheeks. His grip on her arm had loosened . "You _can _leave me, if that's what you want." Even though he was looking down on her, the look in his eyes made it seem like he was groveling at her feet. "But you can't do it without saying _why_. You just can't."

"If I tell you why, will you leave, and promise not to talk to me again?!"

Once more, he looked as if he was physically wounded by her words. He nodded, with a tearful wince.

Aka took a few more deep breaths, desperately grasping at the explanation she could now just barely remember. "It's because – because – I'm going back to my ex-boyfriend. He has lots of money; he can offer me things that you can't. In the long run I'm better off taking him as my Chevalier."

Jonah's head drooped, as if a string holding it up had just been cut. "Oh," he murmured, trembling and obviously devastated.

He vanished, the front door flapping from the breeze of his departure.

Akahana gasped in a gulp of air, as if she'd been holding her breath all through the interaction.

She virtually collapsed where she stood, curling up on the floor.

"It's because I love you…"

* * *

The day of departure was at hand. Saya and Haji were standing in the entryway of the Miyagusuku-Jahana household, along with two little girls, each with a miniature suitcase.

"Five-hundred milliliters in the morning, only give them half, until they eat their breakfast, then the other one. Also, two-hundred milliliter s before bed, except if they get a boo boo –"

"Dude, Saya!" Kai interrupted. "There're three things I know in life – cooking, my Colt and how to take care of chiropteran youngsters. They'll be fine."

"Sorry," she murmured, "it's just that – this is the first time I'll have ever been away from them for more than a few hours."

"Like he said," Mao added, "Kai knows what he's doing. And you don't need to worry about safety. You're in the best-armed house in Okinawa, and don't worry about the guns either, we locked it all up before you got here."

"Saya, they'll be fine."

In response, Saya grunted in such a way as to make it unclear whether it was an affirmative or a muffled sob.

Haji crouched down, simultaneously hugging the two tiny girls. "We will be back after six sleeps," he said soothingly as he stood, in attempts at explaining the length of their journey to these little creatures with so loose a grasp of time.

Then, it was Saya's turn kneeling before Rose and Lis, though what she did next, must have seemed a little strange at first. Kai and Mao watched with intense curiosity as Saya pulled out a small tube of lipstick, labeled 'New! Semi-permanent formula!" and proceeded to generously slather the brazen red onto her lips. Saya then gently took Rosette by the wrist, and firmly pressed her lips onto the back of Rosette's hand, leaving a bright, red kiss-mark, and then repeating the process for Lisette.

"I love you, dearests," Saya said tearily, so pitiful that for the first time that afternoon, the two girls looked sad, their mother's behavior clueing them in that this was a cause for tears.

"Mama," they both sniveled.

"Remember," Saya choked out, still far more affected than they were, "Mommies ALWAYS come back, no matter what. Just remember that."

Haji put a hand on her shoulder, both for strength, comfort, and a reminder that they needed to be off.

Mao snorted, and whispered to her husband, "Shit, Saya's got separation anxiety worse than the kids."

Kai didn't really respond; simply passed a full bento to Saya. "For the plane."

"Thank you," she mumbled.

Kai smiled encouragingly. "In my life, I've said both of these things more times than I could ever count, but I'll say 'em again – play nice with your sister. And remember – _nankurunaisa_."

* * *

It had been three days since the breakup. Akahana looked half-asleep as she hunched over the desk in her office, emptying its contents into a cardboard box. In order to ensure a consummate separation from Jonah, she had to quit her job, and leave the city. Not that this was too much of a disappointment, staying seemed pointless, anyway.

Just like everything else.

All the color seemed to have faded out of her life, going about the past few days in a daze of longing and depression, almost literally weighed down by all these bottled up feelings. There wasn't a single person she could talk to about any of this to. She couldn't tell her few New York friends, after all, how could she explain that she had to dump her fiancé because, as it turned out, he was made an immortal monster by her mother, went insane, got killed, and was then brought back to life? And she was still too mad at her family to speak to them.

It would have made sense for her to pour her heart out to her twin sister as she always had in the past, but she wasn't about to do that, mainly out of an aversion to the inevitable _I told you so._

_He _was the only one she wanted to talk to. She couldn't stand the thought of what he must have been thinking of her, right now. This man, who worshipped her three days earlier, would now spend the rest of eternity, believing that she was a fickle, shallow, heartless bitch. There was almost nothing she wanted more than to explain her true motive for dumping him.

So when she looked up from her desk to see a familiar figure standing in her door, she initially assumed that it was in fact, a wishful mirage; that her loneliness had become so severe, she was now hallucinating. She only realized that the man she saw through her pooling tears really was Jonah, when she noticed the anguished look on his face. If it had been a fantasy, he would have been smiling.

The two just stared for quite a while, before he finally spoke.

"I, um, I know that you asked me not to talk to you again," he said, low and subdued, "but I thought you'd want something like this back."

He produced her laptop out from under his arm, and placed it on her desk.

"Oh. Thanks," she said, as calmly as possible.

"So, you're quitting?"

"Yeah."

"Because of me?"

She didn't answer, staring down at her desk.

"Akahana, can I ask you a question? Just one, and I promise I'll never bother you again."

She nodded, without thinking.

"That person on the phone, it was Solomon, wasn't it?"

Aka's head snapped up, but not soon enough to see the brief flash of murderous anger on his face when he said that particular name. "What did you say?"

"Was it Solomon on the phone? I'm pretty sure I saw him on the subway platform, the other day."

Her mouth fell open as she grasped the true significance of what he was saying.

"You've – you've remembered –"

A look of shame washed over Jonah's face. "Your computer had some files on it – they were rather effective at jogging my memory. I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have, it's your private business, but- " his tone became more zealous, not quite defensive. "I was so worried about you, worried that there was something dangerous going on and – I – had to know."

_But nothing seems different about him!_ she told herself, joyfully.

"So, you – know your past?"

He nodded, beginning a listless recitation. "Born in French Indochina in 1894. Became your mother's Chevalier in 1920. Lost my arm in 1973, leg in 2004. Died in 2006, killed by your uncle and aunt." He paused slightly. "You're eyes are like hers. But you are very much like your mother."

Akahana briefly wondered if he meant that she resembled her mother in her appearance, or her unfeeling cruelty. But her mind was not long occupied by the question, but completely rapt by Jonah. There was nothing ostensibly _crazy _about him. He seemed perfectly calm, if only a bit depressed, perfectly in control of himself._ After all, if he wasn't, if he really were the guy I'd read about, he'd probably be trying to either kill me or force himself on me, or both._

_Jonah. He's still _Jonah_._

It wasn't really wishful thinking, or a lover's delirium. It was faith, pure and simple, the unswerving trust so often said to be the foundation of _real_ love.

"But you're not crazy!" she blurted. "If anything, you seem _more _sane than usual!"

A chortle escaped from the slight, pained smile on his lips. "Thanks – I guess."

She flashed back to the second time they'd spoken.

"_You have an interesting face."_

"_Thanks, I guess."_

That was it. Hearing him echo that memorable moment. It was now set in her mind.

"You're still _you_!" she cried, leaping over her desk and embracing him just as she'd been desperate to do, for days.

In spite of any bitterness or mistrust he had, Jonah didn't hesitate to return the gesture, eyes shut in bliss.

"I'm so sorry!" she sobbed, all the words she'd been bottling up, spilling forth. "I didn't want to do it! I didn't want to leave you, but he said that if I didn't, you'd go crazy, I'd remind you of your past and you'd go crazy! I couldn't let that happen!"

He cut her off, leaning away, looking her in the eye. "You mean – you're saying, it _wasn't_ because he told you my past – you did it to help me, for my own good?" there was no hostility in his voice, quite the opposite. It seemed he wanted to believe in her just as much as she wanted to believe in him.

"Yes!" she cried passionately. "God, what else could make me break up with you so randomly? The thing about the ex-boyfriend was a total lie to make you hate me! I don't care who you used to be! It was to save your life!"

The joy abruptly melted off his face, giving way to stern gravity. "So. I was right. Solomon _is_ trying to kill me."

That took Aka a little by surprise. "Huh? Oh, no, I don't think so."

"You just said that he told you to break up with me, that you did it to save my life."

"But I don't think he's trying to kill you though. He only implied that he'd kill you if you remembered everything, and became a threat to Saya. And there's no reason for him to know that your memory's returned, I mean, how would he know unless we outright told him? Otherwise, he implied that he'd leave you alone."

"And you believed him?!" Jonah sneered.

"Um, well, yeah. Why wouldn't I?"

Jonah began with an incredulous, condescending _hah! _"Akahana, I _know _Solomon. And I know that the only thing he can be trusted to do, is whatever he thinks will get him what he wants!"

"But I really don't think he's trying to kill you!" she protested. "I mean, if you weren't a threat, then why would he?"

"Same reason as before! To impress Saya!"

"But she's married to Haji now –"

"Do you think that would make any difference to him!? If her being his enemy didn't stop him, why would her having a husband?" he paused, expression darkening. "Or perhaps he just wants you for himself."

It was a pretty logical theory, from Jonah's perspective, considering that he knew that Solomon had instigated the breakup. That wasn't to mention his having regained Karl's memories – the last time he had been obsessed with a girl, Solomon had swooped in and began aggressively pursuing her, with absolutely no consideration for his little brother's feelings.

Akahana decided not to argue, lest she add fuel to his assumptions.

"But I don't think he's going to try to kill you!" A very cunning idea came to her. "Here, I'll prove it. Gimme your cell phone, its got caller-id blocked, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, why?" he asked, handing her the phone, as ordered.

She took it from his hand, pulling out her own phone to look up a particular number, and then transferring it to Jonah's, all the while doing some cursory vocal warm-up exercises.

"Let's see if I can remember how to do this," she said, clearing her throat several times.

* * *

Solomon was packing his things for the trip back to California, when his phone rang. He took his time in answering, as the ringtone indicated an unknown number, so it was unlikely to be anyone important.

"Solomon?"

He was rather surprised when he heard Saya's voice on the other end of the line.

_It's the wrong ringtone. Then again, it isn't at all far-fetched that she might be using someone else's phone._

"Oh, Saya? How are you? You sound tense."

_Understandable, really, she'll be meeting Diva tomorrow._

"Solomon, are you in New York?"

"Yes."

"Why?" she asked hastily.

"Well, I do live here, most of the time."

There was a long pause. "Are you there to kill – to kill – the phantom?"

That was rather unexpected.

_But Nathan made me promise not to tell her._ Solomon shook his head. _How like him, to make me swear to keep a secret, and then go and tell it, himself._

Because of the restriction of frequency imposed by the phone, he had no way of determining that the caller was an imposter; it never even crossed his mind.

"It is not done yet, but I will take care of it very soon. Nothing to worry about," Solomon lied.

He could have sworn that he heard a gasp on the other end of the line, followed by a very long silence.

"Saya, don't worry about it, there's no danger. I promise."

"Solomon! I've changed my mind!" she announced suddenly. "I don't want you to kill him. I – from what I've been told, it doesn't sound like he's a threat anymore. Please promise that you won't hurt him!"

Solomon smiled broadly. How fortunate to be ordered not to do the very thing he'd just decided against anyway.

"As you wish, Saya. I won't lay a hand on him."

"Oh. Cool, make sure you don't. I'm, um, just – so tired of all the killing."

"Me too, quite frankly."

"Alright then. Um, see you around," she added just before the dial-tone sounded.

Solomon went back to packing, now felling a good deal less anxious about his decision to spare his little brother's reincarnation.

* * *

Akahana's mouth hung open as she handed the phone back to Jonah. "I – I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't heard it from his own mouth," she stammered. "That lying son of a bitch!"

"Would it be in bad taste if I said _I told you so?" _he grumbled.

"And Saya's in on it," she ranted in disbelief "– probably everyone else too – god, I know how dogmatic the Shield is about killing any chiropteran that doesn't work for them, but – or, god, is this some incredibly fucked up way of controlling my personal life – trying to kill my boyfriend?! I can't – I can't fucking believe it!"

She sighed, and some of the panicked fury was replaced by cautious optimism. "At least we don't have anything to worry about now, you heard, I ordered him not to hurt you."

"And how long do you think it'll take him to figure out _that _wasn't really Saya? All he has to do is talk to the real Saya, she'll ask if it's done – and they'll figure it out."

Aka gasped again. "God, you're right… But it still buys us some time to get out of here. I mean, we can go anywhere, other than probably Japan, the US, England, France and possibly Russia – anywhere else, the Red Shield wont be able to find us. We can go anywhere, with all the languages you speak, there'll be no problem. And everywhere needs doctors and translators, so we'll be able to find work."

He turned to her, surprised. "You'd – you'd go with me?"

"Of course I would! I mean, and my apartment's half packed up anyway, so it's – not a big deal."

"But – your family –"

She looked down; she hadn't really considered that.

_It might mean never seeing any of them again._

"Well – it's my fault they're trying to kill you. If it wasn't for me, they never would have known that you were alive. Of course I'll stay with you – do you have any idea how much I've missed you, these last few days?!" she said, smiling sweetly and placing a brief, loving caress on his cheek. After a moment, that smile became a resentful grimace, her hand dropping to her side, fingers curling into a fist.

"And screw my family. That bitch Ruka probably told everyone in the first place, and she must know what's going on, and she didn't tell me? How could she do that to me, go behind my back?! I never thought that she could actually betray me like that!" Aka was so angry, she barely noticed the tear that leaked out of the corner of her eye.

"It hurts, doesn't it, when everyone turns against you…" Jonah said, soft yet earnest, wiping away the tear with his sleeve, more love in his eyes than ever. "It's something I know all too well – to be used and then abandoned by your family, and then betrayed by the one sibling that you thought was on your side."

He kissed her, if only to remind her that _someone_ was on her side, and to remind himself the same.

* * *

Just as Solomon's cab was rounding the final stretch of road leading to his destination, he noticed that that damn gray car, parked a few dozen feet up from the Otonashi's driveway. Sure enough, sitting inside was the too-tight face of his stalker, blonde highlights now showing rather obvious roots.

_I might be have to do something about that, eventually. I won't let it bother me; I've got bigger things on my mind._

As he approached the house itself, he took in the gardens, transformed to their springtime glory, even though it was barely February, formerly bare trees lining the drive had revealed themselves to be pink magnolia, covered in tulip-like blooms. The green shoots in the flowerbeds were now a rainbow of daffodils, and drab vines on the side of the house, now burst into magenta bougainvillea.

Solomon stepped out of the cab, rang the bell, and received no answer, despite clear signs that the family was home. After a minute or two, he just walked in; feeling entitled to do so, it being his brother's house.

He half expected Diva to come bounding in and giddily welcome him back, but that was hardly what happened. Solomon saw Diva's head peeking out from behind the wall at the top of the stairs, glancing down at him with a face that clearly stated _oh, it's only you. _"Hi, Solomon," she called back, hasty and indifferent, and then went back to whatever she was doing.

It was then when he finally realized just how much he enjoyed her attention.

"Don't take it personally." Freddie appeared beside Solomon, wearing an apron and smelling of human food. "She's doing some last minute cleaning in her room in preparation for Saya's arrival."

"Ah. When is Saya arriving?"

"The computer says her flight touched down an hour ago, so it should be any time now." Freddie paused. "If you'll excuse me, I've got something on the stove."

Freddie went back to the kitchen, and Solomon situated himself on the couch, feeling bored and slightly neglected.

A half hour or so passed, and he heard Yuki shouting up at Diva, that Saya had just called, and was about five minutes away. Diva finally came downstairs, looking more carefully groomed than usual, lip gloss tinted instead of clear, front sections of her hair done into pig-tails while the rest hung loose at her back. Solomon recognized the dress as the one she'd worn to the movies, white with blue flowers, and a matching sweater.

"How was New York, Solomon?" Diva asked politely, but disinterestedly.

"Yes, how _was _New York? Did you get done what you needed to get done?" Freddie's meaningful look injected the question with a whole new meaning, and insisted on an appropriately cryptic answer.

"Yes. I did what I was asked to do."

Freddie seemed satisfied, and the subject was dropped.

Diva's thoughts seemed to shift to the situation at hand. "Oh my god! I'm SO nervous, I think I'm gonna barf!"

"No you're not," Yuki said, soothing yet sarcastic. "I'm fairly sure it's physically impossible; we have no vomit reflex, seeing as it's virtually impossible to poison us orally."

"Still!"

"You'll be fine! Deep breaths precious, deep breaths."

Solomon perceived the sound of another car pulling into the driveway.

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!" Diva exclaimed, jumping up and down, flapping her hands like a startled chicken.

The doorbell rang.

To his surprise, Solomon found Diva clinging to his arm for just an instant, and then she finally took her dad's advice, taking in a few deep breaths.

Yuki opened the door. "Hello precious! So good to have you here. Oh, good to see you Haji."

Saya emerged from the entryway, looking just as nervous as Diva, just less excited. Everyone else in the room watched in silent suspense.

The eyes of the sisters met, and before Saya was at all prepared, Diva sprung forward and hugged her tightly.

From where he was standing, Solomon could see Saya's face from over Diva's shoulder, that look of _fight or flight, _of panic and indecision_._ He wondered if she had that same look on her face when he'd first hugged her, in New York.

Yuki was also standing in a position to be seen by Saya, and made a few encouraging gestures, silently mouthing the word _please. _Saya reluctantly returned her sister's embrace.

Diva pulled away, smiling delightedly. "I'm so glad you're here!" she said, sounding almost as if she were about to swoon with joy. "It's so weird, I feel so much like I've missed you, but I've never really met you!"

Saya just stood there in silence, barely even forcing a smile.

"We're gonna have so much fun," Diva continued enthusiastically, "we'll check out the malls and theme parks, take the bullet train to SF, oh, and I almost forgot – you'll be here for the party!"

"What party?" Saya asked warily, speaking for the first time since her arrival.

"We have it every year," Freddie said smugly. "Used to do it on New Year's Eve, but there's too much competition for guests, so we changed it to February, when people aren't sick to death of parties.

_Yeah right,_ Solomon thought. _I'm sure you planned it for _this_ week, very much on purpose._

"What kind of party? I didn't bring anything –" Saya asked, mumbling slightly.

"Attire will be provided for you, dear," her dad answered.

For some reason, Saya directed a very brief, suspicious glance at Solomon.

"It's a costume party!" Diva burst out excitedly.

"Why in god's name are you having a costume party in February?" Solomon asked, already sounding a little annoyed.

"Solomon, you of all people should understand how valuable parties are for networking, and I'm trying to build a career, here," Freddie explained. "And this is LA darling; you're standard champagne/sushi soiree is not going to distinguish you in the minds of your guests. But, as I predicted some years ago when we started this tradition, people out here tend to get kind of into the whole costume thing." He paused, turning to Saya with a grin. "And you needn't worry about your costume being too weird or kinky, Diva picked them out. That reminds me, I'll need to take all of your measurements ASAP, for last minute alterations."

"The dresses are totally gorgeous!" Diva added.

"Well then! You'd better go get situated," their dad exclaimed. "Dinner'll be ready in a few minutes."

Solomon watched as Diva led Saya up the stairs to the guest room, followed closely by Haji, carrying the modest amount of luggage, looking just as stony-faced and unimpressed as ever. With great interest, Solomon took note of how Diva didn't even seem to be aware of Haji's existence, or at least she was doing a very good job of appearing to ignore him – somewhat strange considering the innate attraction that _should _have been there, not to mention Diva's distantly past statement on Haji's cuteness. Solomon wasn't at all surprised that Haji didn't seem to be even remotely interested in Diva, he never did, pheromones or no pheromones.

_If anyone, in the history of creation, has ever truly risen above their natural instincts, it's Haji. The man is downright ascetic… poor Saya, he must be incredibly dull in bed._

Solomon hadn't particularly noticed until now, but Haji was also carrying his signature cello case. Solomon quickly realized what that meant.

_That's where Saya keeps her sword. She came armed._

He was only concerned about Diva's safety for a moment, quickly realizing that Nathan, Yuki and himself were more than a match for Saya and Haji, should Saya reapply herself to her former life's work. Knowing that, Solomon just felt an immense pity for Diva.

_Poor thing, she's so happy to see Saya, and has no idea that Saya's probably thinking of killing her, right now._

* * *

Don't forget to review! Keep me motivated!


	11. Shield

Finals/graduation and the subsequent binge-sleeping and social functions are over, so I finally got some writing done!

* * *

The whole family, Saya, Haji, Freddie, Yuki, Diva and Solomon were all seated around the dining table. Naturally, Diva had chosen to sit beside Saya.

Unfortunately, the chief feature of the dinnertime conversation was the ticking of a clock. The chirping of crickets would have been appropriate too, but it was a little too early in the year for that.

"Diva, go easy on the steak, you'll turn into a cow!" Freddie nagged, probably just for the sake of breaking the silence.

Diva rolled her eyes and dragged another slab of meat onto her plate.

"There's some truth to that, you know," Yuki added. "Our kind evolved to mimic our prey. It's a characteristic common to all chiropteran species, and by chiropteran, I don't mean bats, I mean _us._"

"_All _chiropteran species?" Solomon asked, curiosity heightened by a desire to keep some kind of conversation going. "Are you saying that there's more than one?"

"Of course!" Yuki answered smugly. "Did you really think that humanoid chiropterans were out on an evolutionary limb, all by ourselves? Many other species have predators hidden in their midst."

"Why haven't human scientists found any of them?"

"A shape shifter is only found when it wants to be found. But humans have had contact with them. Think about it, human folklore is full of immortal critters, particularly ones who have wings, even though it makes no biological sense – angels, pegasus, griffins -"

_She sounds like Nathan,_ Solomon thought,_ and yet she doubtlessly knows more about it than he does._

"What about flying pigs?" Diva muttered. Solomon chortled, mainly because he wanted her attention. He suddenly felt ridiculous, realizing that he'd just fallen into the most cliché form of flirting imaginable – laughing at a joke that wasn't really funny.

Diva turned over to Saya, who was unenthusiastically poking at her food. "Aren't you hungry, Saya?"

"Not really," Saya mumbled.

"Oh! Well, then, hell with dinner," Diva said cheerfully, standing from her seat, steak forgotten, "let's go hang out!"

And once again, Saya was being led upstairs, this time to Diva's room.

Yuki leaned back in her chair as soon as they'd left. "You know, I'd never really thought of myself as the sort of mother who would beat her children, but I swear if Saya doesn't knock it off, I may have to slap some sense into her."

Diva plopped herself onto her bed, and after more than a minute of dumbly standing around, Saya sat stiffly on a nearby desk chair.

"So Saya, can I ask you a question? I know it's gonna sound sudden, but I've been wanting to know for a long time. Do you mind?"

Saya shook her head slightly.

"Well," Diva began to fidget as she spoke, "I guess you know that I don't really remember anything that happened before five years ago, and mom and dad won't tell me anything, they just say that I'm better off not knowing. But I also know that sometimes, parents can be kinda overprotective, that they sometimes withhold things from you –but that's what big-sisters are for – telling you things that you need to know, but your parents won't tell you," she said imploringly. "But don't get me wrong, I'm not really asking you to tell me everything you know, that wouldn't be fair. What I'm really asking is – are mom and dad exaggerating? Is it really _that_ bad? You're my sister, so I'll trust anything you say – if you tell me that I really am better off not knowing, then I'll know never to ask again. Whatever you say, I'll take your word for it – so, am I really better off not knowing?"

Saya didn't make eye contact as she answered, so flat that it was almost mumbled. "Yes. You are better off, not knowing."

"Oh," Diva said softly, sounding both sad and disappointed. A few more seconds of silence passed.

"Can I ask you just one thing about it then?"

Saya didn't answer this time, but Diva went ahead with her question. "The abuse –" she murmured awkwardly, "was it – you know – sexual?"

Saya fought off a fleeting urge to viciously shout - _no. The only rapist was _you.

"Not that I know of," Saya forced herself to answer. Focused on her own discomfort as she was, it didn't occur to her that just because Diva had technically been a virgin when her children were conceived, didn't necessarily mean that some of the various tortures and abuses she'd suffered didn't have a sexual element.

"Oh," Diva said, now sounding embarrassed but relieved. "Sorry, that must have sounded like a really weird question, it's just that, you know, when people say that they did stuff too horrible for me to be told about, my first thought was that it was – you know."

Silence.

Diva noticed Saya gazing absently at her sports trophy shelf. "Those are mostly from soccer. I made varsity this year," Diva explained proudly. "Do you do any sports?"

"I used to do track," Saya answered listlessly.

"Really? Cool! Any particular event?"

"High jump."

"That's so cool! I bet you totally kicked ass, what with your chiropteran powers. Sometimes, especially during big games, I wish I had them. Sometimes I feel like, even when I'm giving it a hundred percent, I still feel like I could do better, like something's holding me back, you know?"

"Hmm."

More silence.

"Do you do any sports now or, I guess you're too busy doing grownup stuff, taking care of your kids."

"I do teach a kendo class."

"Kendo? You mean like samurai-fencing? Holy crap, that's awesome Saya!"

With that, Diva hopped up and grabbed a broom and dust-mop that had been propped up against the wall nearby, no doubt left over from her cleaning earlier. Diva hastily unscrewed the long handles of both tools, tossed one to Saya, and held the other out in front of her, as if it were a sword.

"Here, show me some moves!"

Of course, Saya immediately proceeded to faint.

"Oh shit! Saya!" Diva dove toward her sister, reaching her just in time to keep her from hitting her head on the corner of the tarantula tank, which would have really hurt. Diva knelt on the floor, holding Saya up with one arm, and lightly patting her cheek with her other hand. "Saya? Saya? You dummy, did you forget to feed?"

Saya's eyes shot open, and as soon as Diva's face came into focus, she let out a scream of utter terror and scrambled away from her sister.

_That_ was apparently the last straw, necessitating the intervention of the various eavesdroppers. Haji was the first one in the room, flying to Saya's side and instantly scooping her up into his arms.

Diva stepped away nervously. The look her brother-in-law gave her just then from over her sister's shoulder, cold and mistrustful, was about the scariest thing she'd ever seen. "She fainted," Diva sputtered, not quite sure why she was suddenly afraid for her life, even though there wasn't even the slightest hint of aggression in his posture. But for the briefest of moments, she could have sworn that his face literally changed into that of someone else, still with dark hair and an icy pale-blue gaze, but the features were different. Face more square, eyes more rounded, a neat black beard and narrow moustache, and countenance even more unreadable.

But one blink was enough to dispel the illusion, and the rest of the household came rushing in.

"She fainted," Diva explained again. "I'll go down stairs and get some blood." She turned nervously toward her brother-in-law, checking again that his face was as it should be, "Does she like it warmed up? In a glass or still in the pack?" she asked him, sincere and innocent, as if trying to convince him of her good intentions out of a vague fear of disapproval.

It seemed to work. Whatever panicked suspicion Haji had felt when he'd first walked in to find Saya cowering in front of her in terror, seemed to ebb. In the old days, he had truly hated Diva, having loved the people that she killed just as much as Saya had. But now he found himself thinking of this new Diva much in the same way as he had once thought of Kai, someone that he disliked for reasons he knew to be unfair, so deep down, he had no choice but to approve of them.

Even Saya, only half present, saw in that moment, that _this _Diva wouldn't hurt a fly. But even so, Diva remained just as terrifying, just in a completely different way. Saya had no good reason not to love her, but still fairly sure that it was impossible to do so. That she would never be able to reciprocate the affection that Diva so clearly showed her.

"I kind of doubt that blood is the real problem," Solomon commented.

"Yes," the stepfather chimed in. "Precious, you've never been on a long plane ride before, so I guess you don't know – that sitting in one place for hours is actually surprisingly exhausting." He turned to Haji, "Perhaps it would be best if she went straight to bed?"

Haji nodded, and carried her out of the room.

"Yes, I'm _sure_ she'll be in a much friendlier mood tomorrow!" Yuki shouted, making sure that Saya could hear.

The rest of the family exited, Solomon lingering for a moment as if waiting for an invitation to stay. But none came; Diva just sat down on her bed, obviously deep in thought.

* * *

They were in a hotel room now. Jonah was staring vacantly out the window, and Aka was crosslegged on the bed, hunched over her laptop.

"What do you think about Taiwan?"

"It won't be enough," Jonah said gravely.

"What do you mean? You think we should go for somewhere more remote?"

"No. Running away, in general. It won't be enough. They'll find me, eventually."

"Why do you say that?"

"If he's consciously looking for me, Solomon can sense me from miles away. And that phone call you made, you heard – he's acting on Saya's orders, and there's no way that she'll give up, just like that. She'll hunt me, or more likely, make Solomon hunt me, until the day I die by his hand."

On the surface, it sounded a bit paranoid, but considering what they both knew – Saya's obsessive devotion to destroying non-Red-Shield affiliated chiropterans and Solomon's obsessive devotion to Saya – it wasn't an unreasonable assumption. It probably would have been true, if it weren't founded on a misunderstanding.

Aka's laptop clicked shut. "What do we do then?"

Jonah looked up at her, stare deadly serious, while one side of his lips curled into a smirk so subtle, that you would only notice it if you were looking for it.

* * *

The music, that first phrase, seemed to float into his ears, and then course through his veins to every extremity.

"What is she doing?" Solomon asked his older brother, sitting on the opposite couch.

"Diva? She's singing. What's it sound like?" he returned teasingly.

"But why? I haven't heard her sing once since - If she doesn't remember anything, then how does she know that tune?"

"She picked it up from Yuki. Notice how the syllables are all different? That's the _mother tongue, _whereas Diva used to pretty much sing in vaguely romantic gibberish."

"Are you saying that Diva was born knowing it?'

"Yes. There _are _other more complex explanations, but consider her childhood. Sitting alone in that drab tower all day, it's no wonder that she had to reach into her subconscious for sensory stimulation. She was always very in touch with her instincts, because god knows she wasn't in touch with anybody else." Freddie paused. "Though I always did notice that she had a tendency to start singing whenever Saya was around. While I have no way to prove it, personally, I got the impression that she was trying to impress her… though you know, it probably isn't doing anything to help Saya relax, now. The bedroom walls are all soundproofed, but I'm sure Saya can hear it."

"I'll go see if I can get Diva to stop," Solomon offered, sort of looking for an excuse to see her in private.

He made his way into the other end of the house, that nook in the greenhouse where the piano sat, and Diva along with it. Interestingly, the moment he entered the room, all thought of asking her to stop vanished.

_It's been so long since I've heard it._

The song didn't finish though, somewhere near the end, she apparently slipped up in some way, and the piece was ended with a frustrated _shit! _instead of a dramatic fortissimo. She slammed down the piano lid and huffed. "I suck today; damn high f!" she muttered to herself, turning around on the bench to get up.

"Solomon!" she squeaked in surprise, and then made an obvious effort at coolness. "What are you doing here?"

"I actually came to ask you to quiet down so Saya can rest, but – I just couldn't bring myself to interrupt."

"Oh," she started fidgeting, as usual. "I was actually hoping it would _help_ her chill out; mom says that part of that song comes from a lullaby, from olden times. That and I'm only allowed to sing late at night, when we can be sure that no humans are gonna stop by." Diva pursed her lips thoughtfully. "My parents say that _bad things_ happen when humans hear my voice, that they die, and it has something to do with stuff that happened a long time ago; some company used chiropteran blood to make poison, and gave it to, like, millions of people. God, what kind of assholes would do something like that?" she demanded, apparently rhetorically.

Solomon nearly laughed out loud at the irony of the moment, and the thought of himself slinking out of the room with a nonchalant whistle. "No idea."

"Hmm."

She then let out a loud, childish sigh, the sort that is made only to beg the listener to ask _what's wrong?_

Solomon obliged. "What's wrong?"

"Okay, I'm just gonna out and ask – is Saya crazy?"

It actually took him a moment to think of a response. "No. At least, I don't think so. I think it would be better to say that she has _issues. _Her past affects her deeply. But then again, I would be a complete and utter liar if I said that I understood your sister, and why she does what she does."

Diva sighed again. "It's not going anything like I imagined!"

"You mean, Saya's visit?"

"I dunno, I guess I thought that we'd hit it off right away, you know? Like in those lame, supposedly real stories about how long lost twins meet for the first time and find out that they're wearing the same clothes."

"Well, I don't think you and Saya are identical twins, technically."

"She's acting like she doesn't even want to be here! What's her problem?"

Solomon sat down on the bench beside her. "Diva, keep in mind, that this past that your parents have deemed too terrible for you to be told about – was inextricably intertwined with Saya's. I believe that in some way, you remind her of things she'd rather forget." Solomon paused, leaning back to gaze at the rain tapping on the glass roof, "You and I both do. Notice how she didn't exactly seem glad to see me?"

"Hmm. Yeah," she murmured, lost in thought again. "Oh my god. I think I just figured it out. That's why my parents don't want me to know. They're afraid that I'd get all jumpy and traumatized, like Saya."

"Something like that," Solomon muttered, the lie tasted bitter on his tongue. "But Diva, there is one thing I can tell you for sure. Saya is very devoted to her family. I am sure she recognizes you as part of that. Just – be patient with her, she'll come around."

"But there's also the problem that – I don't know what to even talk to her about! I hadn't even thought about it before but, I mean, all the shows and movies and bands I like, she's never even heard of! I guess she's probably into Japanese stuff."

"I somewhat doubt that Saya keeps much in touch with contemporary pop-culture, American or Japanese."

Diva's head hung over her lap. "Then what do I talk to her about? She already freaked out when I tried mentioning sports. I don't know what to say!"

Solomon reached over to her, placing his fingers under her chin and gently pushed her head up to a less dejected position, and to the side, to face him.

"Diva, I'm sure you'll be able to think of something. If you can make interesting and entertaining conversation with a hundred-and-fifty year-old soldier-turned-businessman, then I'm sure you can do the same with a two-hundred-year-old warrior-turned-housewife."

"Thank you, " she said, looking up at him with a hopeful smile, gazing at him with eyes somewhere between gratefulness and adoration. "You know, I kinda missed having you around, these past few weeks," she said shyly.

He smiled back the same sort of smile, though on him, it looked a bit more smug. "You know, I kind of missed _being_ around."

A few seconds later, they both realized that they'd been staring at each other for far too long.

"Diva, you should probably get to bed," he said, standing from the bench, not quite sure why he had diffused the moment.

"Yeah, I guess." She did the same, and they both walked toward the door.

"Oh and Diva, if you are ever _really _stumped as to what to a topic for conversation with Saya – try bringing up her children."

"She likes talking about her kids?"

"There isn't a mother alive who doesn't."

The two went their separate ways, Diva toward her bedroom, and Solomon toward the door of the guestroom. There was something he'd been meaning to do, but hadn't had a good opportunity to do it, until now.

He knocked lightly on the guestroom door.

"It's me."

"It's not locked," Haji answered in monotone.

Solomon walked in and began to speak as soon as the door was shut behind him. He found Saya standing with her back to him, hovering over an open suitcase on the bed, apparently unpacking.

"Saya, I just wanted to tell you that I knew nothing about any of this until very recently, and I would have told you immediately if Nathan and your mother hadn't sworn that they were about to tell you themselves -"

He cut himself off when he realized that she wasn't taking things out of the suitcase, but putting things into it. Solomon was speechless as she snapped it shut, handed it to her husband, and pulled on her coat.

"Saya – what are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm leaving."

"No, you're not," Solomon insisted, as if he weren't arguing so much as correcting her error. "You're staying for another five days."

"I'm leaving _now_."

"But why would you do that?"

Saya huffed, muttering again. "I found out what I came here to find out. She's not dangerous, so now I'm leaving."

"No, you're not." _Now _he was arguing.

Saya glared at him. "It is not your place to tell me what to do."

"No, you're wrong about that," he answered stern but calm. "You see, I _can _tell you what to do; you're under no obligation to do as I say, but I will say it all the same. _That _is the difference between him and me." Solomon briefly pointed at Haji. "I will not just stand by in silence and watch you make mistakes. I will tell you what I think, and considering what I have suffered for your sake, I'm sure you at least feel obligated to hear me out."

Saya couldn't help but unwillingly agree with that.

"Saya, are you leaving because you still hold a grudge against her, is that it? That's absurd. Saya, she doesn't even know what she did. Even if she did know, even if her memories were completely intact, even then, how could you hold her responsible? Saya, I've seen her kill more times than you have, I can tell you with absolute certainty that she didn't _understand. _I don't think she comprehended the difference between a human and her dolls, other than that one offered her sustenance, and the other didn't. I don't even think that she understood death any better than a child does, over the years, more than once, she asked me when Grigori was coming back, even when he'd been dead for decades.

"Saya, don't you know about her upbringing, if you can even call it an upbringing? For the first fifty years of her life, the only example of humanity she was exposed to was Amshel! How was she supposed to learn empathy and compassion from a man who was completely devoid of both? And let's face it, she wasn't exactly surrounded by good role-models in the years following." Solomon paused, searching his memory for additional ammunition. "You know, at times Amshel even encouraged her to be cruel, she would kill a child and he would clap and laugh with delight, and mutter something about her glorious chiropteran nature. Have you ever read Amshel's journals? I _did _turn them over to the Shield. If you read between the lines, you'd see he _wanted _her to turn out a savage, no doubt to support his own hypothesis, he even mentions doing things like dragging drunks and prostitutes back to the tower, killing them and harvesting their blood right in front of Diva. I knew he was evil for longer than you'd probably guess, but I went along with it out of self-interest. Diva didn't have that choice. She did what she did because it was all she knew, and she killed because she didn't know any better. The deaths of her victims may as well have been just a series of unfortunate accidents."

"I've heard this sort of thing from you before, a long time ago, remember?" Saya said bitterly.

"In a way, yes. I was trying to help you then and I'm trying to help you know." He returned to his tirade. "Or is your anger with Diva more specific? About your little brother Riku, perhaps?"

With the mention of that name, the look on Saya's face went from grouchy to enraged.

"Well Saya, I have news for you. Diva didn't kill your brother. Not on purpose, anyway."

"Of course she did!" Saya bellowed. "She raped him and forced him to drink her blood!"

"No, Saya, think about it, that doesn't make any sense. I don't think there was any she could have made him drink her blood, no matter how bewitching she was."

For a moment, Saya saw the image of her crystallized dead brother, and recalled how she'd always found it odd that her sister had forced her blood on him, but there wasn't a single drop or smudge of it on his face.

"Saya, I'm surprised that your mother and Nathan didn't explain it to you, what happens to a Chevalier after a successful mating. Diva went to Riku as a virgin, and _that _was the blood that killed him. Ask your parents, they'll tell you."

"That's impossible! Then you'd be –" Saya couldn't finish. She couldn't bring herself to say another word on the subject, not in front of Haji.

"Yes, but if you recall, your mother gave me blood that afternoon. That's why I survived, and Riku didn't. You see? Diva didn't murder your brother – and I seriously doubt that she had to _rape_ him."

"ENOUGH!" Saya shouted, briefly covering her ears, as if she couldn't bear to think of her pure-hearted martyr of a little brother in such a way, like some sex-crazed insect who willingly mates at the expense of its life.

"No. It's not _nearly_ enough," Solomon stated, still infuriatingly calm. "Saya, do you have any idea how happy Diva was when you finally called? How she was beside herself with joy when she found out you were coming here? And do you realize how much it will hurt her if you up and leave after three hours without even saying goodbye?"

Saya just scowled at the floor in response.

"Or is that what you want, Saya? You _want_ to hurt her, you want her to hate you so you won't have to see her again, so you go back to Okinawa and pretend that she's still ground into the foundation of Lincoln Center? You want her to hate you as much as you hate her, don't you? Well, I'll tell you something. That girl never _really_ hated you. Whatever you've convinced yourself over the years, _you_ were the one that hunted _her_, not the other way around. Was there ever a duel that you didn't start? Did she ever try to kill you when you weren't actively trying to kill her? Even now, that girl loves as sister should, she's been nothing but excessively kind to you, and now you treat her like toxic waste."

Saya finally looked up at him with head-on glare, eyes full of rage and burgeoning tears, her voice just as harsh as her words, but with a calm that seemed to mock his. "Not everyone can love their enemy as easily as you can, Solomon."

Solomon's eyes flinched shut and he averted his face, as if it had just been pelted with a handful of shit.

Haji appeared between them, mainly to protect Saya from the violent response that she almost deserved, but in some small way, he was also shielding Solomon. Whatever grudge Haji held against him, he actually recognized that for Saya to say such a thing to _him_, was just plain mean.

After a moment of tense silence, even Saya seemed to realize that she'd crossed a line.

Her eyes closed, and she forced the fury off her face and out of her voice, sounding truly apologetic. "I'm sorry Solomon. I'm sorry I can't be friends with her like you, and my parents seem to want. I tried, and I can't."

"An awkwardly silent dinner and a ten minute one-sided conversation? You really call that _trying_?" He took a step forward, regarding her intently, voice softer and yet ten times more caustic. "Who _are _you? Where is the Saya I came to admire so deeply? Where is the Saya who would do anything for her family? Where is the Saya who would willingly put herself through hell, just to correct a past mistake? Where is she? Have you left her behind in Okinawa? Or have I been deceived in you, all these years?"

Solomon turned to leave, walking to the door, and as he reached for the knob, he looked back over his shoulder. As if to complete the parallels with that afternoon at the Zoo long ago, when he'd mercilessly cornered her with repulsive truth, again, he left her with that withering, persuasive stare.

And then he was gone, door shut behind him.

Saya sat down on the bed, arms folded like a pouting child, and a tear finally rolling down across her sour face. Haji tried to embrace her, but she scooted away, and glared at him spitefully.

"You agree with him, don't you?" she demanded.

"No, I don't agree with him," he stated, soothing and frank. "But I do think you are underestimating yourself."

Saya looked up at him as he continued, as if surprised by what he'd said, as if she had expected him to berate her too. "I know that being here is very unpleasant to you. But I have seen you endure trials, both physical and emotional, that were at least as great as this." He smiled at her tenderly. "You _know _that I believe there isn't a single thing you can't accomplish, if _you _truly resolve to see it through."

Her arms jerkily unfolded, and she threw off her coat. Between those two arguments, there was no way she could leave now.

Meanwhile, Solomon was standing just on the other side of the door, head thrown back in hopeless frustration.

_What is _wrong _with that woman? How can anyone be so pointlessly stubborn? Does she really love her own misery that much?_

He was literally just about to get to the all-important mental statement _what did I ever see in her? _when he noticed Diva standing in the doorway of her bedroom, at the other end of the hall.

Solomon was seized by a moment of panic at the suspicion that she must have heard some of that conversation. But he quickly recalled his brother mentioning that the bedroom walls were soundproofed. Plus, the look on Diva's face wasn't anything like it should have been if she'd heard any of that argument; it was casual and calm instead of embarrassed and awestruck.

For some reason, Solomon felt it necessary to explain why he had been in Saya's bedroom. "I was just checking in with your sister. After all, I am _still_ her Chevalier." There was a subtle, but unmistakable regret in his voice. "What are you doing up, Diva?"

"Oh, I heard some weird noises coming from the bushes outside; I think it's probably the raccoons." Her tone lowered as she spoke, as if she knew she was rambling. "Sometimes they come at night and roll up the sod to get the bugs underneath, and it messes up the lawn. I was just about to go get my dad to go scare 'em off, but it looks like he's in his study, and he doesn't usually like to be bothered…"

"Hm, I guess I could help you," Solomon said, regaining his usual pleasantness, "I may not be very intimidating to humans, but I think I'm probably capable of scaring off a raccoon or two."

_I could use the distraction, and I have to think of a way to prepare her for Saya's early departure. _

The two of them walked downstairs and out onto the back porch. It was raining hard now, probably one of the few decent storms the area got in a year.

"Do you hear it?"

Solomon had to strain to listen; he could vaguely perceive that there was something in the bushes, but the harsh patting of the rain made it difficult to sense anything clearly.

"It's bigger than a raccoon," he commented.

"Bigger? Like a coyote or something?"

Solomon had closed his eyes to better focus in on the creature. "It's bipedal," he added after a few seconds.

"You mean a human?"

His eyes suddenly snapped open, "No, definitely _not _human," his voice took on a considerable degree of urgency, and he leapt down the porch stairs out into the yard. "Diva, go inside and stay there," he ordered.

"No!" she snapped with childish attitude, as if to say _you're not the boss of me._ She followed him down the steps.

Solomon stopped somewhere near the edge of the orchard; he could hear the monster rustling through the growth.

_It's Karl. It has to be. Who else could it be? Could I have been wrong about him being harmless?_

It was getting closer and closer, the sound of branches snapping and leaves crunched by oversized feet.

_He's already transformed. He's here to fight._

_I should have killed him. I should have killed him…_

Solomon waited, holding his breath in anticipation of the sight of his little brother, no doubt just as violently maniacal as ever, ready to plunge all the family's well laid plans into chaos, as he'd always had a knack for.

But he breathed a deep sigh of relief when the monster finally appeared. As the former CEO of Cinque Fleches, he knew a garden-variety delta-series chiropteran when he saw it. The creature wasn't even charging them, it was just slowly lumbering towards them, swaying clumsily like a drunk, drooling heavily and looking rather disoriented.

_It looks like it's just barely reached full zoanthropy. There are still a few scraps of clothing on it._

Diva shrieked at the sight of it. "Oh my god! What the hell is _that?_"

Solomon glanced back at her, about to answer _you _know _what it is, _but realized that Diva probably had no memory of ever seeing one transformed before.

"Chiropteran," he cursorily explained, shrugging off his coat and tossing it to her, less like he was preparing for a fistfight, then preparing to clean up a nasty mess. While the monster didn't seem hostile, and he knew that it posed no real threat to either of them, they being its blood-mother and blood-brother, Solomon still thought it best to put it down before it started causing problems.

His right arm was briefly enveloped in pale blue light, while it transformed into his signature weapon. Diva gave a little grunt of revulsion at the sight of the bizarrely deformed limb.

Solomon rushed forward at the creature, blade poised to slice it to pieces before it even knew what hit it. But just as his weapon was about to make contact, the thing seemed to realize that it was under attack, and threw one gigantic muscular arm out in front of it, knocking Solomon into a bed of tulips, a few feet away.

Solomon grinned and shook his head as he righted himself. "Well then, it seems I'm getting out of shape," he chuckled with a _tut-tut._ But before he could reengage the monster, he sensed movement from behind him, in the vicinity of the upstairs guestroom balcony.

That said, he wasn't even remotely surprised to see Saya leap over the rail, sword already in hand, nightgown fluttering around her as she flew toward the ground.

_Oh good, she's in her nightclothes. I guess that means she's decided to stay, _thought Solomon.

Saya wasted no time in entering the battle. "Kyaaaaa!" she bellowed as she charged at it.

Solomon stepped forward, feeling obligated to help, but found his way blocked by one of Haji's arms, followed by a meaningful look.

_Hmm, I suppose you have the right idea, Haji. Better to let her blow off some steam._

Saya attacked, springing up off the ground just before she reached the monster, and with one graceful crescent-shaped stroke of her sword, she beheaded the creature and cut a huge diagonal line down through its torso, that almost certainly ran directly through its heart. Saya was apparently still in command of herself enough to keep in mind that her blood was now useless for this application.

The poor creature hit the ground in three separate pieces, and Saya stood panting over it, watching for any signs of life. But the thing was so thoroughly killed that it didn't even twitch, let alone regenerate. Now satisfied that the chiropteran was dead, Saya turned around to face the onlookers, and sword still in hand, the glow of her eyes through the rain droplets made it look almost as if they were giving off sparks, as they fixed directly on the stunned Diva.

Solomon immediately saw the danger, and appeared beside Diva, one arm extending in front of her, prepared to shield her from any half-delirious attack. But the strange, one-sided standoff only lasted for a second, not even long enough for Diva to remotely guess what her sister was thinking. The tension was shattered by a shrill, but masculine voice from the back porch.

"What the hell is going on out here?" Freddie demanded, headphones hanging around his neck, and his wife strolling out close behind.

"What took you two so long?" Solomon asked casually.

"I had my headphones on and she sleeps with ear-plugs, but even that wasn't enough to block out _that _god-awful racket," Freddie whined, walking toward them and nearly tripping on a slab of dead chiropteran.

"Ewwwee!" he squealed, as if it were an ordinary dead _mouse_. "Where the hell did that thing come from? Oh shit, I hope it's not Ignacio!"

"Yes, good question," Yuki added, thinking a moment. "Oh dear, you were singing earlier, weren't you, precious?"

"Huh?" Diva asked, shock just starting to wear off.

No one seemed to notice that they were all sopping wet from the rain.

"But still," Yuki continued, "we made sure that the neighbors can't hear it from the edge of our property. Whoever they were, they must have been _in_ the yard."

Solomon was already trying to find out the answer to that all important question, and found it in the form of a wallet, entangled in the shreds of clothes still clinging to the creature's body.

"Ohhh," Solomon to said to himself as if he'd just parsed out a riddle. He held up the ID tab of the wallet. "It's _just_ my stalker. She's been following me on and off for the past few weeks."

_Makes sense, I suppose. Cinque Fleches products stayed in circulation for years, and she must have consumed one, at some point. _

Freddie's face scrunched up in irritation. "This doesn't have anything to do with that chick who's been hanging around the front of our house for the past few weeks, now does it?"

Yuki turned to Diva. "See? It's not your fault, precious. There's no way you could have known that crazy lady was sneaking around in the garden."

"Solomon, you're sure she's not a cop, right?" Freddie asked.

"Quite sure."

"Alright then!" Freddie said with an enthusiastic clap. "This should be a piece of cake. You all go inside and dry off, Solomon and I will take care of this. Go on, go, go."

They all did as they were told, Diva lingering at the back of the line filing in the back door, glancing back at the bizarre murder scene.

"Thank god for the storm, it'll make this a lot easier," the ancient Chevalier declared, "The blood will go into the lawn and give it a bonus nitrogen boost, and then all we need to do with the body is cut it up into a few more pieces and dump it in the creek, the storm'll have the water so high and fast that the body should be out to sea before anyone notices it."

Freddie assumed his thinker pose. "Hm, let's see, I guess tomorrow, I can assume her face and drive her car down across the border making sure the cameras catches me, dump her car and then take the bus back as someone else. That should clear us of any suspicion, don't you think? And even _if_ the police were somehow able to connect us, the only one without a solid alibi would be me, and I am pretty damn cool under interrogation. Lived through the Spanish Inquisition, you know."

"So, wait - what am_ I _supposed to do?" Solomon asked, confused by his brother's volunteering to take care of everything.

"Nothing, really. It's only fair, you see. Recently, you volunteered to take care of an unpleasant task for me, it's only right that I do the same for you. Now will you be a dear and fetch me the wheelbarrow from the shed? Oh and could you also go check on Diva? She must be pretty shaken up, seeing all that."

* * *

As usual, I yearn for reviews!


	12. Magic Words

Solomon found Diva sitting on her bed, wet hair cascading down dry pajamas, knees tucked tightly in her arms, and chin tucked between them. One upward glance revealed that she'd been crying.

"That was my fault, wasn't it?" she whimpered, wiping her eyes on her pajama sleeve. "It was because I sang… my parents told me that people die when they hear me sing, they didn't say anything about _that _happening."

"Well, it _is_ dead, isn't it? So, technically, they told you the truth."

"That woman _was_ obnoxious, but she didn't deserve to die."

Solomon sat down on the bed. "Your mother was right, there's no way you could have known that woman was within earshot. It was an accident."

Diva looked at him questioningly. "If you accidentally ran over someone in your car, wouldn't you feel bad?"

"Not if they were laying down in the middle of the freeway."

"Huh?"

"Diva, what I mean is – that woman didn't die because of you, that woman died because she was behaving foolishly. While I'm sure she didn't know the _special_ risks attached to this family, any person with half a brain knows that sneaking around a stranger's yard in the middle of the night, isn't exactly a safe pastime. She was trespassing. As a matter of fact, I doubt you'd be in _that _much trouble if you outright shot her."

That brought Diva to a whole separate concern. "That's the other thing – what about the police? Someone's gonna come looking for her. She's gotta have some friends or family and they're gonna call the cops! And some traffic camera is gonna show her license plate near our house, and they'll know that you used to be her boss – it's only a matter of time before the police start banging on our door -"

He smiled soothingly. "There's no need to worry about that, your dad's already come up with a plan, and a solid alibi. While he and I don't always agree, this is one area in which I have _absolute _faith in him."

Diva didn't look very reassured. "But – don't you get it? Alibi or not, if they investigate us, even a little bit, they're bound to figure out that there's something pretty fishy about our family – and when they figure out _what we are_, then we'll be screwed no matter what. Even if there isn't a bit of evidence, they could still lock us up and throw away the key, right?" She began to tremble, no doubt at the thought of being imprisoned. "We're not humans. They could literally do whatever they want to us – what _rights_ does a chiropteran - a non-human - have?"

Solomon pinched his chin and thought a moment. "Endangered Species Act?" he offered cheekily.

Her initial response was to glare at him for making light of what she saw as a very serious problem, but it was only a moment before a soft giggle pushed its way past her lips. "Okay that was _kind of _funny."

He smiled again. "There's really nothing to worry about. Like I said, your dad is very capable when it comes to this sort of thing. Trust me."

She sighed, but still looked a little wary.

He leaned forward to look her in the eye, head-on. "And I can assure you this, Diva: no one is going to hurt you, and they're certainly not going to lock you up."

Diva regarded him skeptically. "How do _you_ know?"

"Because I won't let them," he answered without thinking, blasé tone seeming a little odd on such a bold declaration.

She stared at him, amazed, eyes briefly dipping down to his lips.

" – And neither would your family," he added, eventually.

She was blushing now. "I guess I should take your word for it, huh?"

He nodded with a smooth smile.

She leaned back against the headboard, finally looking reassured. "I guess, considering what I just saw, I shouldn't question this family's ability to protect itself. Saya kicked some _serious_ ass out there. Somehow, I get the feeling that what she did probably goes a bit beyond the scope of regular kendo. Like she's fought those things before."

"She certainly has."

"Hmm," Diva gazed absently for a moment. Still having no idea that she and her sister had barely known each other in the past, Diva was imagining a fanciful scene, in which she and Saya stood back to back with matching swords, surrounded by hideous monsters that were all about to die.

She smiled shyly at Solomon. "You were pretty cool out there too."

He laughed uncomfortably. "Are you kidding? That was awful. I am honestly embarrassed that _that _is likely to be the only example you ever get of my fighting abilities."

"Hey – anyone with the nerve to charge that thing is automatically a badass, in my book."

He laughed again, discomfort now due to feeling genuinely over-flattered.

Diva's voice and look turned even more bashful. "Um - your hand – that thing – what _was_ that?"

He chuckled and _drew _his weapon. "Just a special ability of mine," he answered nonchalantly.

One of Diva's hands slowly moved toward his transformed arm, index finger outstretched. She gasped a little as she gave it a brief, careful poke.

She jerked her hand back so instantly, that for a moment, Solomon worried that he'd cut her.

"Eeewe, it's warm," she said, really sounding more fascinated than disgusted.

"It's flesh and blood, same as the rest of me."

They both blushed and scooted away from each other slightly. There was something strangely sexual about had just transpired.

* * *

They'd been arguing for some time now, and Akahana was beginning to wear down. Even her stubbornness was no match for his vehemence.

"I _still_ don't see why we have to kill them," Aka insisted.

"There is no other way to end it."

"But – we'd be murdering two good people -"

"Good people?" He stared at her, aghast. "Good people! How could you possibly believe that? Solomon… All those years, he made me believe that he cared about me – and then he -" he trailed off, and shaking furiously, and suddenly shifted his argument. "He betrayed and tried to kill your dear mother, you know!"

"My mother was homicidally insane, and -"

"God, is that what they told you? Just because she didn't act like a human? Even if you believe that, I promise you, that's not why Solomon did it. I know him, Akahana. He didn't try to kill your mother to save the world, and he didn't kill me because I was a murderer. He did it to _impress a girl_!" The bitterness in his voice was almost overpowering. "I guarantee you, conscience was not involved in the least, because to have a conscience, you have to have a soul! Deep down, Solomon is nothing but a few wants and desires, loosely bound into something _resembling _a soul from a distance, but close up, it's just as hollow as the promises he makes! How can you defend someone like that?"

Jonah was so worked up that he was panting. "At least Saya had some integrity! Flawed as it was, she never betrayed her cause. But that still doesn't change the fact that she devoted her life to committing genocide in the name of a personal grudge!"

"Genocide?" Aka stammered.

"Yes genocide! What else do you call it when someone tries to wipe out an entire race?"

"The chiropterans she fought were dangerous!"

"So is a Bengal tiger, but that doesn't mean they deserved to be hunted to extinction!"

_That is a good point…_

Aka's eyes narrowed. "Have you forgotten that I've killed chiropterans too?"

"No, I have not forgotten that you were once a murderer, the same as I. But you're different from Saya. You were coerced by your family. Saya made the choice on her own."

Aka's views on this matter were rapidly weakening under the weight of his angry, but sound logic, made only stronger by an entirely natural, and in most other cases, commendable tendency to trust one's beloved.

But her opinions, while strained, were not yet broken.

"Look, Jonah. They've done questionable things, and I can't forgive them for trying to kill you, but that doesn't change the fact that they've been good to _me_. Strangely enough, I know that Solomon is a bit of a self-absorbed creep, but he was there for us when we were growing up, and I know that he probably did it just to worm his way into Saya's family. But whatever his motivations, he _was _nice to us. And I know that Saya's messed up, but my sister and I still owe her our lives!"

Jonah frowned. "What do you mean?"

"She saved us from that Chevalier, Amshel, the night our mother died."

"Have you ever even read this?" he demanded incredulously, gesturing to the open laptop.

"Joel's diary – I know the gist of it, and I've read some parts, like the paragraphs that mentioned your name, but not the whole thing. It's like – a bazillion pages, and ninety-five percent of it is boring as hell!"

"Well,_ I_ managed to get through it in a few days, but then again, I don't eat or sleep," Jonah muttered, hastily typing something into the search field, and then turning the screen around, for her to read it.

She looked over the text he'd highlighted.

… _I silently condoned Saya's decision, telling myself that these were not babies that she was going to kill, but dangerous animals that needed to be euthanized. Saya raised her sword over the two infant Queens, I think she said something, but I couldn't hear it from the balcony. I believe she really would have done it, if it wasn't for Kai, who intervened at the last moment…_

"Oh my god -" Aka whispered as she read. "I can't believe this. Saya was going to kill us…"

That one piece of information seemed to shatter her image of Saya. No longer a selfless heroine, but a delusional murderess.

"Defenseless infants, Akahana. And I have no doubt that Solomon would have done the same if Diva hadn't bested him."

Aka furrowed her brows. "Wait, how did you even hear about that, about him trying to kill my mother? Weren't you dead when that happened?"

"It's all in the damn diary! I have no doubt that Solomon made sure that incident was recorded, so Saya could read all about it, later." He gave her that intense stare again. "The two people who are going to die are not saints, Akahana. These are people who don't know the meaning of the word _mercy. _But Akahana, that's not even why I want to kill them. This isn't murder. It's self-defense. It's just that - I don't want to die."

Suddenly he looked surprised and puzzled, as if he'd heard a suspicious noise from outside.

"Jonah, what is it?"

"Nothing," he said, sounding half lost in thought. "It's just that – it just feels so strange to hear myself say that, let alone to mean it... I don't want to die." He raised one hand to her face, and caressed her cheek. "Not now that I have so much to live for."

Jonah wasn't a villain crafting an ingenious argument for the sole purpose of getting his girlfriend to condone the murder of her own aunt and uncle. He was a confused young man, frightened of death, and even more so of himself, desperately trying to rationalize these new violent, vengeful feelings.

And then they were kissing, the hand on her cheek sliding down off her chin and onto her shoulder.

"Akahana, I think you should go home to Okinawa."

"What?"

"It's for the best. It's not fair of me to ask you to fight your own family. I'm only arguing with you because I don't want you to hate me when _I _do it. And more importantly, I don't want you in harm's way. We can meet up when it's all over, but I won't risk you getting hurt in the mean time."

"But Jonah - "

He interrupted, begging her. "Akahana, please. If something were to happen to you – if you were to get hurt - I'm not sure what I would do, I'm not sure if I could – if I could still -" He looked down at her intensely, "if I could still – keep it together."

A chill shot down Aka's spine, but she quickly shook it off, and glared at him. "Excuse me? Did you forget who you're talking to? I'm Akahana Miyagusuku, dammit! Expert chiropteran fighter, and secret weapon of the Red Shield! Frankly, I'm a bit insulted that you're so worried about me." For a few seconds, she just stared at the red trench coat hanging in the open hotel closet. "Solomon was actually telling the truth when he said that I was raised to believe that when someone you love is in danger, nothing else matters. Even if I don't particularly want to, I am not letting you face this danger alone. Not when I'm the one who caused it in the first place. They are my aunt and uncle, but I know I shouldn't complain – I didn't make them my enemies. They did that themselves when they decided to kill the man I love." She paused, fearsome resolve now tinged with anxious remorse. "I just hope the rest of my family stays out of it."

* * *

Diva looked over a pair of overpriced stuffed-animal sea lions displayed on a street vendor's cart.

"I'll take these two."

"I don't really want one," Saya forced herself to murmur, half out of general contrariness, and half out of a real desire to keep Diva from wasting her money.

Diva went ahead and paid the man. "They're not for _us_! They're for Rose and Lis! Do you think they'll like them?"

"I guess so."

Now Saya just felt like a complete jerk.

The two sisters were on their daytrip in San Francisco now, walking along on a tourist-choked pier, and stopping at a particular bit of side-railing to watch the sea lions on the docks below, basking in flabby brown-velvet piles.

But almost as soon as the girls arrived, a few animals began barking ferociously, and within seconds, the entire colony had fled into the water.

Diva sighed in disappointment. "Warm-blooded critters just don't like us, do they? That's why I have a tarantula, instead of a cat."

As usual, Saya responded with an indifferent hum.

In terms of Saya's treatment of Diva, the only thing that had changed since the previous night was that Saya had resolved to stick out the visit. Diva was really no closer to being a beloved sister than she had before; she was more like a torture that had to be endured.

But even though Saya's coldness seemed so undeserved, few, if anyone realized just what Saya herself was going through – the overwhelming cognitive dissidence was turning her inside out emotionally, and even physically. Her appetite had been poor since she'd been told about Diva, and she'd barely eaten since she'd arrived, and it actually wasn't out of blind spitefulness. Ever since she'd learned of Diva's resurrection, she'd felt as if there was a cold, foreign stone in her stomach, and it felt like it was ever sinking deeper and deeper.

Saya had hated Diva so much, for so long, that at one time, it would have been a good way to describe herself, in one sentence. _My name is Saya, and I hate Diva_. That animosity toward her sister was virtually ingrained in her personality. Less like a feeling than a fundamental part of her _self._

And now, her family was asking – no, demanding that she love her. In some way, Saya actually wanted to obey. She felt guilty because her sister was being so nice to her, but she couldn't bring herself to return the favor. And when she made some valiant, yet ostensibly pathetic attempt to be kind to Diva, she felt that crushing guilt all over again, as if she was betraying the memory of Diva's victims.

Not to mention, whenever it occurred to her that Diva had truly changed, that she was now a good person, Saya couldn't help thinking back to how she had been deceived in the first place. How she had felt such a strong emotional connection to that sad, lonely, but sweet little girl – only to find out that the friendly voice from the tower actually belonged to a _monster –_ leading to the biggest mistake of her life.

It was almost literally tearing her apart. Her feelings were so complicated that it was virtually impossible to describe them to herself, let alone to the girl who couldn't be told any of the reasons for her hatred.

It was both a conundrum and a paradox. Saya felt obligated to love Diva, but she also felt obligated to hate her.

And for most of Saya's life, obligation was_ everything. _When obligation was present, she barely even knew how to look past it, into what she _really _felt. Consequently, at the moment, she could feel nothing but a pervasive unease and discomfort.

Poor Diva was still trying to make the best of it. At the moment, Diva couldn't think of any solution to the problem, other than friendliness and trying to show Saya a good time. But by now, it was really starting to get to her.

Their mother was off shopping somewhere, as she had decided that her girls needed some alone-time to bond, and their stepfather was off covering up a murder. At the moment, the two girls were _alone. _But of course "alone" just meant that their Chevaliers were watching them more discreetly than usual.

"Saya, is that your husband?" Diva asked, pointing to a nearby rooftop, and sounding more than a little weirded out.

"Oh, yeah."

"What's he doing up there?"

"Watching me, I guess."

Diva shrugged with her brows. "Um, no offense – but – that's hella creepy."

"I guess I'm used to it," Saya retorted, a little irritably, feeling like she had to defend his actions. "He's always done that, an old habit, I guess. The world used to be a more -" Saya looked down, "dangerous place, for me."

"You mean like what happened last night?"

"Yeah."

As Diva turned back around to face the ocean, she caught sight of a more familiar form, who was also obviously following them. But Solomon wasn't looking down at them from the edge of a rooftop like a gargoyle; he was nursing a cup of tea at a nearby café, and doing a pretty good job of pretending to ignore them.

He was following them mainly because he was a little wary of their mother's decision to leave them alone. Solomon had decided that there was no way Yuki could possibly understand the extent of Saya's hatred, since she'd been dead for the entire course of Saya's war. And it didn't sit well with Solomon that the only one nearby would be Haji – who was known to do anything Saya told him to, no matter how irrational. If a fight were to break out, _someone _would have to be on Diva's side.

That, and he still felt a little concerned about Karl showing up, so much so that he was actually toying with the idea of going back to New York to kill him, just in case.

Diva didn't feel nearly as creeped out by Solomon's shadowing them, and for some reason, decided not to mention it to her sister.

Of course, by this time Diva's feelings for Solomon had gone considerably past what could be called a simple crush. She was downright smitten. After all, how could she not be? Teen-idol good-looks and gentlemanly charm – but it was something else that sealed her fate. In addition to his well-timed promise to protect her, since she had known him, he had never been anything but kind and supportive, and somehow, had an uncanny ability to calm her when she was upset. But at the same time, she had also been able to make out something of his terrible vulnerability, the wretched loneliness that echoed beneath the façade of his glamorous immortal lifestyle. He was a tantalizing combination of savior and someone who needed to be saved – which rendered him entirely irresistible to her naive teenaged heart.

And also, by now, Diva was fairly sure that she'd figured out the true nature of his relationship to her sister. The notion of them having once been lovers made altogether too much sense to discarded, however staunchly he'd denied it. It did Diva some credit that she had been able to see through his lie, but unfortunately, the accuracy of her assertions on that subject ended there.

In fact, she had come up with a fairly elaborate back-story for their relationship, and while it was logical in the context of the information she'd been given, it could have hardly been farther from the truth.

She had decided that Solomon had to have been Saya's first Chevalier. That made sense to her, considering that his involvement in World War I and his appearing to be in his mid-twenties meant that he had to have been changed a long time ago. In Diva's mind, Saya must have fallen for him enough to make him a Chevalier (perhaps there was some sort of crises involved, she supposed). But Diva had also picked up that even though Saya had only married her husband five years ago, they had been together for a "very long time," so Diva assumed that Saya must have dumped Solomon for Haji quite some time ago.

That theory was lent more weight by various other factors. First of all, Solomon's always being nice to her and Saya's always being cold, made it easier to believe that Saya was the one who did the dumping/heartbreaking. Additionally, Diva's mild-yet-ingrained mistrust of tall men with blue eyes and black hair, made her more inclined to believe that Haji must have been the shameless interloper.

But more than anything, the idea was strengthened by Diva's wanting it to be true. Desiring your sister's ex seemed much less reprehensible if the sister did the dumping, and the breakup had occurred over a century ago.

At the same time, yet another idea was kicking around in Diva's head… what if she had some history with Solomon, herself? Perhaps her had initially fallen for her on the rebound? Or could she have stolen him away from Saya? That certainly could explain why Saya was being so unfriendly to her, and why she didn't seem glad to see Solomon either. But Diva didn't want to believe that she could have ever been capable of doing something like that – stealing a sister's boyfriend was downright _evil_!

But she did rather like the theory of Solomon having loved her in the past. It would explain why Solomon, a handsome, charming billionaire, seemed to be interested in some silly, non-supermodel high school girl – something that was damn near inexplicable, otherwise. And she just adored the notion that he'd loved her all this time – that perhaps, he'd been pining for her all these years, that for whatever reason, he'd had to wait until a few weeks ago to see her – and was now gradually going about the task of making her fall for him all over again. How romantic!

Just thinking about it made her want to let out a lovestruck sigh – having no idea that it was not only wrong, but absurdly ironic.

The sisters moved to sit on a nearby bench. The crowd had dispersed along with the sea lions, surprisingly, that area of the pier was now completely desolate, the closest strangers were now at the café, a few hundred feet away, and out of human earshot, when combined with the sound of the gulls and waves. But it was now quiet and still enough to make conversation an absolute necessity.

"Hey, you think if we look really hard, we can see your house from here?" Diva grinned and pointed west, out over the ocean.

Saya didn't even respond.

Diva glanced at the bag of stuffed animals down at their feet, and it reminded her of Solomon's suggestion the previous night.

"So… how old are Rose and Lis?"

The look on Saya's face was strangely mistrustful, like a wild animal offered food out of a human's hand. "Three years, six months."

"Oh, cool."

That chronic, annoying silence returned.

"So… I guess they must be a handful, huh? But I'm sure they're totally worth it. Um, I bet you've got some pretty good stories about them, don't you?"

"Mm."

Diva wasn't about to give up. "Maybe, stories about some cute thing they said, or some trouble they got into..."

"Mm."

That was when Diva came to the end of her rope, in terms of putting up with Saya's coldness. She'd gone to her last-resort topic, and even that didn't loosen Saya's lips or attitude.

"Okay, _that's _it, Saya! What's your problem?"

Saya actually jumped a little at the sound of Diva's raised voice, but she still said nothing.

"Saya, why are you acting like this? Why do I get the feeling that you're counting the seconds until you're _allowed_ to leave? You look like me in Mr. Klein's math class!"

Saya was glaring at the ground again.

"Solomon told me that it's because I remind you of bad things that happened to you, a long time ago. But I get the feeling that it's _more_ than that. Your vibes are like, way hostile! I _really _get the feeling that you're mad at me!" Diva crossed her arms. "What did I do? What did I do that was _so _shitty, that you're _still _mad at me? Did I steal your boyfriend? Did I run over your dog? Did I spread ultra-nasty rumors about you all over school?"

Saya just kept on scowling in silence, and of course now, the two Chevaliers were listening very carefully.

"I know, I know, you can't tell me. I'm better off not knowing any of that stuff, aren't I? Well that's not fair, Saya. You're being a total bitch to me, and I have no idea why!"

"Sorry," Saya reluctantly muttered.

"No! You can keep your _sorry_. I don't want an apology_, _I want a sister!" Diva sniffed tearfully, "apparently, _I'm _the one who should be sorry. And I am. I don't even know what I did, but I _am_ sorry did it. I'm sorry, Saya." She smiled imploringly, sounding a little less dejected. "See? Now you can forgive me."

"You make it sound so _easy," _Saya whispered.

"Why does it have to be difficult? Forgiving someone is only as hard as _you _make it."

Saya's chin tensed, throat tightening and tears welling, but still hanging her head over the ground.

Diva was actually kind of glad to see that Saya was upset, because it meant that at least something she'd said had gotten through to her.

"You know, not that I ever really paid much attention in dharma school, but there is one thing I _do _remember. They said that holding a grudge is about the dumbest thing you can do, that anger is a -" Diva flinched and snapped her fingers a few times, trying to remember the term, " – a – an - afflictive emotion, yeah that's it, afflictive emotion. All it does it hurt _you_ and the people who love you. It doesn't balance out the universe, it doesn't get you revenge and it doesn't fix whatever bad thing happened to you, it just makes you feel crappy. That as long as you hold a grudge, you're letting that bad thing go on hurting you forever. And I can tell that something's hurting you right now. I don't know what it is, but it's really bugging you."

Diva leaned closer. "But they also said that the cure for anger isn't letting it spill out all over the place, and it's not holding it in, either – and that seems to be how you're dealing with it. But the only _real _cure is to counteract its effects with its opposite – forgiveness. That forgiving is the only way you can separate yourself from the crappiness you feel left over from the bad thing that's making you angry. When you forgive, it's finally over. It can't hurt you anymore.

"I hate the idea that something I did is still hurting you." A brief sob erupted from Diva's throat, somehow, it caught Saya's attention and she finally looked up at her. "Please just forgive me? You don't need to carry this _hurt _around. Even if you can't throw it away, just try putting it down for a while. Just say _Diva, I forgive you_. You don't even have to mean it, just try it out, and see how it feels, 'kay? _Diva, I forgive you._"

Saya gave a strained grimace, as if she were lifting the weight of the world, and then finally muttered what she'd been asked to say.

"Diva, I forgive you."

Saya held her breath at the end of the statement, half expecting the earth to open up and swallow her down into hell.

But nothing happened. The world kept turning. Her heart kept beating.

"See, Saya? That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Saya didn't respond, senses overpowered by the commotion of her own thoughts, her field of vision claimed by alternating images of Diva killing Joel at the Zoo, and Diva killing Riku in the tower. But even so, she could almost hear the voices of others, ringing in her ears, voices of reason, pleading with her.

"_She's exactly like you were when __you__ didn't have __your __memories."_

"_I've learned that you've just gotta let shit go… You've gotten so much slack and faith – share it with your sister."_

"_If we all try hard, we can be a family. If we look like we're going to be apart, I'll stick us together with boiled rice!"_

Then, the image of Diva feeding on Riku changed. Diva disappeared into thin air, and Riku looked up, smiling – a beautiful smile, a smile that said _everything is okay._

And then he spoke. _"Don't ever grow to hate yourself."_

…_yourself… yourself… yourself… _The last word echoed as the vision dissipated, and she saw Diva, sitting beside her on the bench. But Saya was no longer looking at the face of evil. She was looking at the face of her twin sister.

And Saya whispered a thought that she'd never said out loud before - the phrase that rang out in her mind as she bid farewell to Diva's crystallized body, at the Met.

"Diva. My other self."

Diva let out a giggle of pure joy, and clasped Saya's hands tightly.

Saya's lip began to quiver, "Diva, I forgive you. I forgive you…" She kept on saying it, even as she began to sob.

She felt as if she'd just been unhitched from a weight she'd been dragging around for a century and a half. In forgiving herself, she was forgiving Diva, and in forgiving Diva, she was forgiving herself… it sounded completely illogical, but somehow, spiritually and psychologically, it made perfect sense.

Saya didn't really notice when Diva flung her arms around her, even as she hugged her back with all her heart.

The two Chevaliers were smiling at them, from a distance.

And they both sobbed tears of joy until their noses ran, their faces ached, and their skin was red and blotchy. Whenever it seemed like the crying was starting to taper off, one of them would start up again, and then so would the other, like babies in the same crib.

It finally ended much like a fit of hysterical laughter – with a smile, and an enormous sigh.

And silence took hold of the sisters once more, now peaceful instead of suffocating.

"_Diva, let's go get something to eat now. I'm starving." _

"Me too."

Saya frowned in confusion. "What?"

"I said _me too."_

"_You too,_ what?"

"You said you were hungry, and I said _me too._"

"Diva, I didn't say anything."

"Yes you did! I heard you, you said,_ let's go eat, I'm starving_!"

They _already _sounded like normal sisters, arguing over _nothing_.

"I really didn't say anything, Diva. But that _is _weird, I guess I was sort of thinking that."

Diva's face formed into a wide-mouthed smile. "Mom! Mom!"

Yuki seemed to appear out of nowhere; apparently, she'd been watching them too.

"What? What is it?"

"I heard Saya's thoughts!"

Saya gasped a little. Strangely, the possibility hadn't even occurred to her before then.

"Really? That's wonderful precious! And quite interesting too – you can hear your twin's thoughts without the _blood of awakening. _You don't seem able to hear mine, or dad's, but can hear _Saya's. _Even _I_ didn't know that!"

Diva turned to Saya with a grin. "Here, guess which numbers I'm thinking!"

"Thirty three. A hundred and – forty seven. Seventeen point four."

Diva giggled and clapped. "This is soooo awesome!"

Saya sounded more worried than pleased. "Um, mom, will she be able to hear _all _of my thoughts?"

Yuki smiled reassuringly. "No dear. It's not mind reading. It's mind_ speech._ She can only hear things you consciously want to tell her. It's just like talking – you can keep your secrets." She paused and thought. "Though, I suppose it is a _little_ easier for things to slip out." Yuki's voice then echoed in Saya's ears. "_Don't worry precious. The secrets of her past won't just come spilling out." _

Yuki switched back to audible speech, and hugged the two girls simultaneously, burying her face between their heads and tearing up herself.

"I am _so_ proud of you girls."

They hugged their mother back, creating one big bundle of familial happiness.

But the hug loosened at a strange, creaking-gurgling sound.

Diva laughed. "Damn Saya! You really _are _starving!"

* * *

Both nude, they lay atop the hotel bed, Aka curled up on her side, and Jonah nestled snugly against her back, arms encircling her tightly, as if he were afraid she might escape, or to assure himself that she was real.

"I just had a thought," he whispered lovingly, pausing to kiss the back of her neck. "If it wasn't for me, you might not have been born." There was nothing wicked or manipulative in the way he said it, judging by the tone, he may as well have been saying _I love you._

She thought a moment. "I do remember reading that you were the one that helped my mother find my father."

"Yes. If it wasn't for me, you might not have been born," he answered softly, and he smiled, even as his manner turned more wistful. "I like that thought. I like it because it means that even in my _old life, _there was at least one thing that I did right. One thing that turned out _better _than expected, instead of blowing up in my face like everything _always _did."

He seemed to doze off shortly after that, as Aka stared thoughtfully at the wall.

"Jonah?"

"Hmm?"

"You'll keep your promise, right?"

"Of course I will. I would never break a promise to you, let alone something _that_ important."

A few minutes passed.

"Jonah?"

"Yes?"

"What does it feel like to die?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Just curious, I guess."

"Well, I guess it feels like - when your foot falls asleep, only it hurts more."

"No, I mean, what does it feel like after that, the actual moment when it _ends_?"

He shifted in bed slightly, and began stroking her hair as he spoke. "It's like – I don't know how to describe it. Everything goes blank. Pain stops – but so does pleasure. Not like the pleasures you usually notice, pleasures like breathing. Thinking. Feeling. If there is an afterlife, I don't remember it. Perhaps I spent forty years in hell, but I suppose it's something that the living are not meant to know about." He paused. "It was a terrifying experience, even to someone who was looking forward to it. I guess I was expecting it to be liberating, but somehow, it was – a thousand times more oppressive." He leaned over her shoulder, whispering sweetly. "I suppose it's just as well that I tell you all about it, because death is something you'll never experience for yourself. I would never let that happen to you."

* * *

Do take a moment to review, even short ones at least tell me that someone's actually interested in this story!


	13. Ancient History

Sorry, this one's a bit behind schedule. Springtime busyness replaced by summertime laziness. You know how it is.

* * *

Now back in SoCal, the entire party was spending the afternoon at the beach. Still February, it was not quite warm enough to swim, but enough to enjoy the sand and the view.

The past forty-eight hours had seen a remarkable shift in relations between the twin sisters. Whereas a few days ago, they couldn't keep a conversation going for more than a few sentences, now there seemed to be no limit to how long they could chat amongst themselves.

They were strolling barefoot at the edge of the surf, discussing their new favorite subject – comparing notes on what it was like to be a teenager with no past.

"It's weird, it was kinda the same for me," Diva said, in response to Saya's story, "but from what you describe, the beginning was completely different. It took you three weeks to be ready to start school, it took me three _years_. When I woke up, it wasn't just that I didn't know my past, it was that I didn't know _anything._ I could speak four languages, but I couldn't read or write in any of them. And – it's hard to explain – it's like – I knew when to say _please_ and _thank you_ and _I love you_, but I didn't know what they _meant. _I could walk and talk, but I didn't know how to make a friend, how to tell if someone wanted to talk to me or if they were in a bad mood. And -" Diva paused uncomfortably.

"What?"

"It's kinda embarrassing – when I first woke up, I used to bite people, mom and dad, and I even scared the crap out of Ignacio, once. It wasn't really that I wanted to bite them, it was more like I didn't know how to _not _bite them." She laughed. "It was kind of funny, mom and dad used to carry around this little remote, and when I tried to bite, they'd press the button and this horrible loud noise would sound, so it made me not want to bite anymore. And later, when I was a little less – out of it – mom actually explained that biting was wrong, and that when you hurt someone, they feel pain just like you feel when you get hurt. She also said that even in ancient times, when we ruled the world, killing a human was strictly taboo. That even though humans were considered lower lifeforms, they were also _sacred_, like buffalo to some Native American tribes. And she had this funny saying about goats – let me think – it was something like – if you kill the goat, you will have a feast for a day, but if you protect it and lead it to good pastures, you will have milk and baby goats for many years. And mom also told me that biting a human, even non-fatally, was frowned upon – it was considered crude and unrefined, kinda like drinking milk straight from the carton."

They both laughed. Once they had finished, Diva began fidgeting again.

"Saya, I know I'm not supposed to ask about my past, but this is _super_ vague and you don't have to answer if you don't want to… can I ask you?"

"I guess so."

"Saya, was I – different, from how I am now?"

"Yes. You were different," Saya answered pensively.

Diva nodded, continuing to fidget nervously. "In a good way or a bad way? I mean, do you like me better now, or the way I used to be?"

That was another one of Diva's theories as to why Saya had been so hostile when she first arrived. Perhaps they had been extremely close in the past, but Saya had felt that the resurrected, amnesiac Diva was a different person from her beloved little sister?

"I like you better, now."

Diva perceived the stark sincerity of her sister's words; after all, it was quite possibly the understatement of the century.

She gave a smile of relief. "I'm glad." She paused. "And – I'm glad that my memories can't come back."

"Really?"

"And I'm not just trying to kiss your ass, it's because I trust your judgement. If _you_ think I'm better this way, then I'll take your word for it. I really am glad that my memories can't come back. I know, I know, it sounds like bullshit considering all these veiled questions I've been asking, and that's not saying that I don't kinda want to know the truth, someday… but I'm glad my memories cant _literally _come back, like if I had my Chevalier's blood." Diva's tone turned nervous again. "It sounds so scary, the whole idea of having your past suddenly come back to you. I'd be afraid that I'd stop being - _me._ I'm not perfect, but I sure as hell don't want to be anyone else. To wake up, and be a different person – I can't think of anything scarier." She paused. "Was it scary for you?"  
"Terrifying," Saya murmured.

"Do you ever wish that you didn't? That you still couldn't remember?"

"I used to."

"But not anymore?"

Saya sighed and her voice lowered even further. "I guess I do, sometimes. But - It's taken me a long time to – get to where I am. Trust me; I know I'm kind of grouchy and high strung sometimes." She squinted, eyes shifting as if engaged in some deep consideration.

"What is it, Saya?"

"I just realized that – I don't think I ever would have said that out loud to anyone else."

Meanwhile, Haji was busying himself with his cello, as he generally did when he was not needed, and the happy parents were relaxing on a picnic blanket.

"I'm so proud of them!" Yuki said, for the hundredth time.

Freddie smiled and nodded, and returned his attention to his book.

"Hey, where'd Solomon go off to?" Yuki asked randomly.

"I believe he's on a _vision quest_, of sorts."

"A what?"

"A vision quest, more or less, soul searching while wandering around. Or in this case, taking a walk, only more _emo_."

Yuki surveyed the area. "Oh, I see him, he's up on those rocks. What's he doing up there?"

Freddie glanced up, and chuckled. "Not sure. Hm, but he is a pretty sight, on a seaside cliff, wind in his hair. Give him a toga and a padded bra, and he'd be a Maxfield Parrish painting."

Yuki laughed. "I don't get the reference, but the mental image is still funny!"

After some minutes of serene reflection, Solomon reached into his coat pocket, and pulled out a small silk envelope, the sort of pouch jewelry sometimes comes in. Carefully, he undid the zipper and peered inside.

It was his treasure – not gold or jewels, but a long lock of black hair, bundled together with a red velvet ribbon. It was the lock he had secretly pocketed when Saya had cut her hair, just before the Kahoolawe mission. And for the five years since, he had kept it close to his heart, quite literally – in his left breast pocket. Being considerably longer than the silk pouch, the lock had coiled in on itself in order to fit, and some time ago, Solomon had been delighted to find that it had coincidentally formed itself into a figure-eight, or what he interpreted as an infinity symbol. Because of this, he had been very careful not to disturb the lock of hair within its envelope, lest he undo this delightful symbolism.

But now, he did what had once been unthinkable. He reached into the pouch and pulled out the lock of hair, unraveling the figure eight. For a moment, he just gazed down at it wistfully, and took a deep breath, as if he was planning on throwing _himself_ off those rocks, and then finally, he tossed the treasure into the wind, the current of air strong enough to carry it out of sight before he ever saw it meet the sea.

He gave a sigh, not one of melancholy, but of relief.

"Saya. I forgive you," he privately announced to the world.

Solomon had been eavesdropping during Saya and Diva's confrontation in San Francisco, including Diva's heartfelt sermon on forgiveness. Personally, he had always associated _forgiveness _with Christian hypocrisy, but the way Diva described it, made it seem much more appealing.

That wasn't to say that he was about to give away all of his possessions and live in a shack in Tibet, though. It was just that, all of a sudden, the concept of forgiveness appealed as much to his vanity as a sense of spirituality. At one time, the idea of forgiving Saya for so profiting from his misery seemed entirely impossible, if only because his pride stood firmly in the way. It had sounded so weak and pathetic to him, only a complete doormat (like her husband), would forgive such a wrong.

But Diva's take on the matter seemed to reverse that. It made anger sound like some petty, moronic form of self-flagellation. And, surprisingly enough, he sort of liked the idea of setting foot on genuine moral high ground, possibly for the first time in decades.

That wasn't to mention the fact that forgiving Saya was made considerably easier by the fact that his pent-up unrequited love for her was being rapidly siphoned away by another woman who had once been out of his reach, but now, appeared to adore him.

He leisurely made his way back down the path, through a field of ice-plants and wild irises, rejoining the group on the beach, casually sitting beside his brother and – sister-in-law, or whatever Yuki was to him.

"Forgiven her, have you?" Freddie asked proddingly.

Solomon directed a soft glare at his elder brother. "How could you even hear me? Upwind and with all the noise from the ocean…"

"I can read lips, you half-wit," he returned curtly.

"Just one of many skills one picks up over the course of immortality?" Solomon mocked.

"I'd imagine that he learned _before_ he was immortal," Yuki declared. "He was deafened when he was fourteen."

"Really?" Solomon was slightly intrigued. "How did that happen?"

"In a temple, as part of a ritual. It was customary for certain slaves or retainers to be deafened at puberty."

"God, why would they do such a thing?" Solomon asked, sounding as if he actually disapproved.

Freddie laughed at his response. "Look dear! _Solomon Goldsmith_ is appalled by the way someone harmed children for their own devious purposes!"

"Give it a rest, Nathan," Solomon muttered.

"Anyway," Freddie continued, as if Solomon hadn't said anything. "You should know perfectly well why they used to do it. You know from your beastly little experiments that pubescent children often have the ability to hear chiropterans telepathically."

"Yes," Solomon said, nodding, "we theorized that humans evolved that ability in order to avoid chiropteran predation, but that the ability wanes with age, possibly due to disuse."

"Exactly." Yuki took up the explanation. "The idea was to force our servants to strengthen and maintain that ability, so they could hear our orders from considerabe distances. Like a built-in Bluetooth." She giggled. "I think that's why Freddie liked to listen to my singing so much, as a teenager. It was probably one of the only things he could hear."

Her husband looked slightly annoyed, as if his wife had just revealed something that was a little _too_ personal, but he seemed to shake it off quickly. "All's well that ends well," he said indifferently, "when I became a Chevalier, I got my hearing back, and _then_ _some_."

"Hmm," Solomon added. "At one time, I had respertory problems, but they disappeared when I became a Chevalier."

"Yes, yes, the Queen's blood - it's good for what ails you." Freddie chortled. "Hey Solomon, just out of curiosity, is that how that old son of a bitch talked_ you_ into it, for your health? You once mentioned that he adopted you when your father died, but you never did say what made you decide to take the _plunge_."

Solomon glanced down at his palm.

…

He was back at his brother's chateau for a casual visit. It was shortly after dinner; Solomon had slipped out onto the terrace for a cigarette. He smoked like a chimney in those days, in defiance of the chronic bronchitis he'd suffered from as a result of his war injury.

There hadn't been even the slightest sound or hint that anyone else was there until his brother tapped him on the shoulder. Lately, he'd noticed Amshel's predilection for doing that, but Solomon still damn near jumped out of his skin with fright.

"Brother -" he panted, trying to collect himself.

"How are things going at the clinic?" Amshel asked, rather disinterestedly, considering that he'd started the conversation.

"Well, I suppose."

"Why is medicine so important to you?"

"I suppose it's because of the time I spent in a hospital, recovering from my injury. The doctors there struck me as so different and yet still the same as the soldiers. They fought every day, but it was to save lives, not take them."

Amshel gave a snort of amusement. "So, you want to make up for the lives you've ended?"

"Not exactly." Solomon paused. "It's hard to explain. It's more like, during the war, I saw how terrible, how foolish humans, including myself, could be, that even good men could do unspeakable things. Humanity utilizing its most unique characteristic -ingenuity, for the purpose of killing one another. I couldn't help but feel that perhaps _we _are inherently bad, that the human race doesn't possess the virtues that so many prophets and philosophers have imbued it with. I didn't like feeling like that, feeling like there was no hope for mankind. I guess I decided to become a doctor because I wanted to prove to myself that I, and the human race in general, could put that ingenuity to a better use, that man can live up to the ideals he holds dear."

_Even then, I hated humanity. I was just afraid to admit it to myself._

Solomon noticed a slight quirk at the corner of his elder brother's lips, a mannerism he would eventually learn to read as a signal that he was up to something.

"Solomon, do you know exactly what it is that I study?"  
"Biology, right?"

"More specifically?"

He thought for a moment, and glanced at the floor in embarrassment. "I don't know."

There was that quirk again.

"I study immortality." Amshel grinned at the obvious skepticism already appearing on Solomon's face. "What if I were to tell you that I was born in 1798?"

Solomon laughed. "I would say you were joking. Perhaps if you looked like a very, _very_ old man, you _might _be able to convince me, but you don't look a day over forty. I mean, if you were telling the truth, that would make you nearly a hundred and twenty years old."

Solomon had always known his _elder-brother _to be a bit odd, but for a moment, he suspected that he was genuinely mad.

"One hundred and nineteen. Now Solomon, endulge me, and imagine for a moment, that perhaps, I am telling the truth. How could it be possible for a human to stop aging? What causes aging?"

"The current theory is that it's the gradual breakdown of microscopic cells."

"And what if those cells were able to instantly repair themselves?"

Solomon thought for a moment. "I suppose that would indeed be immortality."

Amshel chuckled as he reached into his jacket, and pulled out a dagger, decorated with a large, blue cabochon, and heedlessly drew the blade across his own palm in order to display the most instant and obvious characteristic of a chiropteran.

For a second, Solomon thought his earlier suspicion confirmed - his _brother _was indeed insane. However, Solomon's assumption abruptly changed as the wound closed up before his eyes. Now he was fairly sure that he, himself was going crazy, seeing things that couldn't possibly be real.

"How-"

"I have discovered _the secret_, but it is no philosopher's stone, no cup of Christ. It is a girl. A special girl who carries the fountain of youth in her very veins."

"A girl-"

"She is the most fascinating creature I have ever beheld," Amshel recited, worshipfully. "I have studied her continuously for nearly a century, and she is still full of infinite mysteries. She is a rare anomaly, not of the human race, but of life as we know it, no other living creature posses such characteristics. Were I not a scientist, I would suppose her to be a genuine _goddess_."

Solomon couldn't hold back the urge any longer; he seized his brother's hand, examining the now-perfectly healed palm exhaustively.

Amshel smiled, almost magnanimously. "Imagine if all of mankind was like this, if every man, woman and child possessed these characteristics? Sickness, hunger, murder, death - they would all cease to exist. Even war would become a thing of the past, for what would we _really_ have to fight about?"

He looked his younger brother squarely in the eye. "And _we_ can give it to them, Solomon. This technology is within my grasp, and with your help, it can finally be achieved."

"My help?" Solomon stammered.

"From the moment I met you, I knew that you would be the _perfect_ accomplice in my efforts." He paused. "Think of it, all of your grand goals could be realized, and then some. What doctor in the world would not jump at this chance?"

"Why do you need _my_ help?"

"She does not carry enough blood to change the whole world. It will be necessary for her to have offspring, and you shall _assist _her in that."

_He was lying, of course._

"Why me?"

"Because you are young, attractive and agreeable, I am sure she will be more enthusiastic about mating with _you_."

Even then, Solomon detected the subtle bitterness hidden in the statement.

Solomon blushed slightly. He had heard far more lurid talk as a soldier, but coming from his straight-laced celibate-bachelor brother, it sounded rather strange.

"The first step would be for you to receive her blood, and become immortal yourself."

"Receive her blood?"

"Yes, as I said, consuming her blood is the mechanism by which her abilities are propagated."

Solomon thought for a few seconds, understandably hesitant. "I don't know…"

"Don't know? I am offering you the greatest gift any man has ever received. You would never need to fear death - disease, guns," he paused and grinned evilly, " - poison gases - they would all be _nothing_ to you. Think of the good you could accomplish, you could bring about the eradication of all human misery, all in your own lifetime. God himself would marvel at such an altruistic achievement."

The young human's eyes glanced at his brother's palm, and then fixed on his own.

…

He sighed at the recollection. _How could I have been so stupid?_

_He knew exactly what to say, to appeal to my sense of guilt and vanity, my fear of death. It wasn't that long before I realized that he had lied about his intentions and beliefs, but after a few years, I truly came to agree with them… when it became obvious that another world war was imminent. The "war to end all wars" was for nothing. That was when the last bit of my respect for humanity died. I came to believe that mankind was truly hopeless. They were fools bent on their own destruction, and therefore, insignificant. Why concern myself with human suffering, when it is completely inevitable? Why bother with the comfort of a condemned man? I came to believe that we, as Chiropterans, could do nothing but share in their suicidal idiocy, or profit by it. Obviously, I chose the latter… and there was something indescribably freeing about it, the release from the anxiety and empathic pain inextricably tied to _caring.

_I suppose, I've realized that the world is more complicated than that…_

"Well?" Freddie asked, impatiently, interrupting Solomon's reverie.

Solomon wasn't about to admit any of that to his brother, least of all the fact that he'd become a Chiropteran out of a naïve, vainglorious desire to save humanity, and ended up willingly involved in a plot that could well have destroyed it.

"Nathan, how many times do I have to tell you – you are not my psychiatrist."

Freddie rolled his eyes. "Touch-ey! I was just curious, sheesh! And besides, I _dare_ you to find someone more qualified to listen to your problems. Tell your life story to any shrink in the world, about how you're a hundred-and fifty, hear things others can't, and were part of an international conspiracy involving immortal monsters – they'll peg you as a paranoid schizophrenic."

By then, Diva and Saya had moved on in their conversation, sitting on the sand, staring at Saya's cell phone, and a slideshow of Rose and Lis.  
"And this is us over at Omoro again, and here's them playing in a puddle, and -"

"God damn Saya! They are so cute! You should have brought them with you!"

"_Oh no_, they've been on a plane once before when we took them to Disneyland last summer, and it wasn't pretty."

Diva suddenly looked crestfallen.

"What is it, Diva?"

"You – you went all the way to Disneyland, and didn't come to see me?" she whimpered.

"In Tokyo, Diva! Tokyo!"

"Oh!"

They laughed again.

"Well, I still wish I could meet them, I've totally been falling behind on my duties as an auntie –you know, buying them loud obnoxious toys and letting them eat too much candy and -"

"Well maybe you can come and visit us," Saya ventured, a little cautiously.

Diva took in a deep excited gasp through wide, smiling lips. "Really?" Ohmygod, that would be so cool!"

With that, Diva hopped up and ran across the beach toward their parents. "Mom! Dad! Can I go back to Okinawa with Saya?"

"Well, um, that's not really what I meant…" Saya interjected weakly.

"Yeah, but wouldn't that be awesome though? I mean, we've only had a few days to hang out together, and I don't want to wait until summer!" Diva turned back to their parents. "Pleeeease? I'd only be missing a few days of school!"

"Isn't that kind of short notice, precious? And besides, I'm not sure you realize just how heinously expensive last minute plane tickets cost, especially if you care which flight you're on."

"Oh shut up, Freddie!" Yuki groaned. "You have _tons_ of money, and I'm _sure _that you'd be more than happy to shell some out in the name of sisterly bonding."

"Yayyyyy!"

* * *

"Yo?" came the familiar voice on the other end of the line. Saya smiled when she heard Mao in the background, nagging him about answering the phone that way.

"Hi."

"Hey Saya, how's it going over there? Am I gonna haveta stick you two together with boiled rice?"

She laughed at his reference to the same words that had crossed her mind the other day.

"Nope. We're actually doing just fine. I've, um, invited her to come back with us, for a few days."

Kai fell silent for more than a moment. It was one thing to find out that Diva was alive, thousands of miles away, it was quite another to actually meet her in person… but just as he'd insisted that Saya do it, he too had to give it his best shot. "Oh, cool."

"How are Rose and Lis doing?"

"Pretty good. Damn they're easy compared to Aka and Ruka, when they were little. Hang on a sec… Oi! Rosie, Lizzy, c'mere! It's mama!"

The sound of pattering feet was heard, followed by the breathing of little mouths beside the receiver.

"Rose? Lis?"

"Mama!" they both exclaimed in unison.

"Are you having fun with aunt and uncle?"

"Yes!" answered Rose.

"When you be back, mama?" Lis asked.

"Only a few more days, dearests. Now you run along and go play nicely. Listen to aunt and uncle."

The stampede of little feet across the floor was heard again, and Kai took back the phone.

"So, it's just about ten, that means the monthly Red Shield teleconference is starting," he said. "You ready, Saya?"

"Have you told them anything, yet?"

"Nope, as requested."

"Good." Saya drew in a deep breath. "Alright, patch me through."

"Good luck."

Saya moved the phone away from her face, turning on the camera/video feature, and in turn, a picture appeared on the screen, a view down the center of a long conference table, Joel VI at the head, his son to his left and David Sr. to the right.

"Hello Saya," Joel greeted warmly. "It's been a while since you've joined us. I trust you're doing well?"

"Yes, sir. And yourself?"

"Very well, actually. In a few weeks I'll be going in for a new surgical procedure that _may_, if successful, give me back some of the use of my legs. But I'm trying not to get my hopes up _too _high, it's only experimental."

"That's wonderful, sir!" Saya exclaimed happily.

"I am hoping so," he answered. "Now then, Kai says you have something important to tell us…"

As usual, everyone was staring at her expectantly.

Another deep breath. _There's no easy way to tell them this, so I may as well just out and say it._

"My sister is alive."

She heard the inevitable collective gasp. No one dared ask if she was serious, they knew perfectly well that this was no joking matter for any Red Shield member, least of all Saya. There was just shocked, fearful silence.

Saya had to regather her courage before speaking again. "My mother used her blood to revive Diva. Apparently, Nathan Mahler saved Diva's remains and sent them to my mother, from wherever he's hiding." That lie was more a favor to Joel than Freddie. Saya didn't want to make this explanation any more frightening than it absolutely had to be. "Diva has been living with my mother and stepfather for the past five years, with no memory of her past or former identity."

They didn't look any less shocked.

"She's totally normal now, she goes to school, has friends, everything…" Saya continued, borrowing from her mother's explanation. "I'm actually at her house right now; I've met her in person."

Another gasp, and Saya waited for a verbal response.

It was nearly a minute before Joel had composed himself enough to speak. "Well, this is, well, that really is an important bit of information. Pardon me if it takes me a little while to absorb this. How long have you known, Saya?"

"About two months."

Joel frowned subtly. "I must say, I am a little disappointed that you chose to keep this from us for that long. But then again, I suppose you have every right to keep secrets from us, considering what we've kept form you, in the past."

"It has nothing to do with that. I just wanted to meet her for myself, so I could explain the true extent of the threat, before worrying you. And I can tell you this, Joel – there _is_ no threat. She's no more violent or dangerous than an average human. If anything, less so. She's just like me or my mother when we had no memories, only in this case, there's no chance of the memories coming back on their own, because she hasn't been exposed to her Chevalier's blood."

Joel still looked concerned.

"Joel, trust me about this. When I first found out, was upset too, but now that I've met her, I – I actually kind of _like_ her. And I can tell you, beyond even the faintest shadow of a doubt, that she isn't dangerous. I've seen her in her everyday life, and I've even seen her in a situation in which she would have been certain to use her chiropteran powers in the past, but she didn't. I'm even inviting her back to Okinawa to meet my children, in a few days. _That's _how much I trust her."

Joel's brows raised as he continued to mull over these unexpected, and unsettling revelations, after a moment he could be seen leaning over to David, the two of them engaging in a brief, whispered conversation before Joel addressed Saya again. "I suppose – that there could be no harsher judge than yourself, but – you'll have to excuse me if I need a little more – reassurance than that. When – _Diva_ comes to Okinawa, I would like David and Lewis – and perhaps Julia as well – to meet her, just for the sake of having additional – objective opinions."

"That's totally fine," Saya said, hiding her mild annoyance, "bring as many people as you want to meet her, they'll all tell you the same thing – that you have nothing to worry about." Saya's tone darkened ever so slightly, "But just as Diva wouldn't harm anyone, I will not let anyone harm her."

For a moment, Joel looked shocked all over again. "Alright," he eventually said, though in his private thoughts, there was nothing _alright _about any of this. The fact that Diva was alive and more so, Saya's implied threat to side with Diva, were the Red Shield to act against her… he was tempted to pinch himself, to see if he awoke from this nonsensical dream. But still, Joel was a reasonable man, and whatever his feelings, he was not someone prone to rash action.

"I'll talk to you all later then. Diva's waiting for me. We're going to the mall. Thank you for understanding, everyone, and good luck with your surgery, Joel."

While Saya was taking care of her private phone call, Diva had taken the opportunity to approach Solomon.

"Hey, um, I guess you heard that we're having a party tomorrow night. It's usually kinda cool, but it's mostly my mom's friends, and people my dad is trying to suck up to. I really don't give a care what they think of me, so I usually go stag and just hang out with Max and Wes," she said, already sounding bashful. "The thing is, this time, Max is going _with_ Wes, and Saya'll be with her husband, so I was wondering, if it's not too much of a drag…"

"Of course I wouldn't mind being your escort, Diva," Solomon answered smugly.

She smiled, now sounding a good deal more confident, "Good! 'cause I already picked out a costume for you that'll match ours."

* * *

"Kai, are you _sure _you don't know where she is?"

"No, Aka, I really don't know where Saya went," Kai lied into his cell phone. "I'm not _really _her dad anymore."

"Can't you call them and ask?"

"I did just get off the phone with Saya, so I know they're okay, if that's what you're worried about."

"Oh never mind," Aka huffed. "I'll see ya later then. Love you."

Akahana looked upset as she put away her phone.

"I just talked to my dad, just fishing for more information." She gave a worried frown, "And let me tell you, something really fishy _is_ definitely going on over there. I'm sure of it. I asked my dad about Saya and Haji, and he said they were out of town, and he said he didn't know where, even though they left their kids with him. That doesn't make any damn sense! Then I mentioned that I was thinking about dropping by home, but he said this was a really bad time, something about them remodeling the house, which I know is bullshit, because Mao once told me that she'd move out if he ever decided to rip up the house again, and when she says that sort of stuff, she usually means it." Aka shook her head. "Saya and Haji are off on some mystery trip without kids, and my dad doesn't want me to come home even though he's been bugging me to come back for a visit since, like, a week after I left… Jonah, even if I didn't know anything about you, I'd say that something really weird's going on. But after what you told me, and what I heard from Solomon's own mouth… God, if I had any doubts, they're sure as hell gone now."

Jonah nodded. "Saya and Haji are probably hunting me at this very moment. Did you ask about Solomon?"

"Oh, yeah. My dad just said that he thought he was at his place in New York."

"That's a lie," Jonah spat, "Solomon has left the city. I don't _feel_ him anymore."

"The fact that my dad doesn't want me to come home is a _really_ bad sign. It probably means that the whole family is involved, which is exactly what I don't want." Aka hung her head, covering her eyes with her hands. "You don't know my family. Saya is their patron saint, they'll do anything for her."

"Strangely enough, I already knew _that._"

She shook her head against her palms. "Ruka's probably mixed up in this too, and everyone else, Mao, David and Julia, Dave, Lewis… people I grew up with."

"Yes, trust me, I am aware of the Red Shield's tendency to _complicate_ things."

Aka looked up, revealing the tears streaming from her face. "It's one thing for me to let you kill the two people who are trying to kill you, but – my dad and my sister? Those are two people that can't get hurt. I can't let them get hurt, Jonah. I can't."

"Alright then," he said comfortingly. "I swear, won't hurt them."

She shook her head again. "No, you don't get it. It won't matter. He's just as protective of Saya as he is of me and my sister. If you try to kill Saya, my dad will be throwing himself into the line of fire, no matter what you do. And my sister is so stubborn – I'm sure she's gonna blame me for this –" her voice went from worried to downright terrified. "She and I will end up fighting. I _know_ it."

"Damn, you're right," he muttered in frustration. "Wait, do you think we could convince them that I've kidnapped you? If they think you're my hostage, they'll do whatever we say, we could make them send Saya and Solomon alone."

"No," she whispered miserably. "Because of Ruka, they must know that you and I are together. They won't buy it."

"Damn, damn damn! There some way we can keep them out of this, something we can hold over them, something that'll force them to play by _our _rules!"

* * *

Please review!


	14. Wonderful Tonight

"Alright, we're coming down!" a voice called from the top of the stairs, the three Chevaliers waiting expectantly at the base.

Saya and Diva appeared first, wearing the smug smiles women who were pleased to be seen.

… and their outfits for the party.

They were nothing short of magnificent, the sort of superior, ornate costumes that one rarely saw off the stage or screen. They were clad in vaguely renaissance-era gowns of fine silk brocade, slit-sleeves that flared at the wrists, scandalously low cut necklines trimmed with lace and gems, skirts that revealed a center section of white crushed velvet. Naturally, the dresses were identical in every way, save their colors, which shouldn't be hard to guess – Saya in red, and Diva in blue. Their hair was done up in coils of French braid, tucked into a beaded gold snoods, and topped with a jeweled circlet.

Not too surprisingly, Solomon found himself staring almost exclusively at Diva.

The sisters were followed closely by Yuki. Contrary to expectation, she was not dressed to match her daughters. Yuki wore a gorgeous classical kimono, hair up in a traditional style, decorated with fluttering strands of wisteria that hung from puffs of silk cherry-blossoms.

Each of the three Chevaliers proclaimed their splendid beauty, Freddie with much excited babbling, Solomon with syrupy compliments, and Haji with a just barely noticeable smile.

They were so stunning, that for a moment, Solomon and Haji were able to forget what they themselves had been coerced into wearing. Apparently, the idea was for their outfits to match that of their companions in terms of era. They were wearing velvet frock-coats, richly embroidered with gold flowers, extending down to the upper-mid thigh. But between there and the matching boots – their legs were covered only by skin tight leggings. Like their dates, they matched each other except for color, again not hard to guess – Haji in black and Solomon in white.

Solomon actually flinched as Diva looked him over. Her grin was almost evil. "You look - nice."

Solomon forced a smirk. "You mean, ridiculous," he corrected.

"Oh quit your whining!" Freddie chimed in. "With legs like _that_, you should wear tights more often! Unlike poor Mr. Toothpicks over there." He gestured to Haji.

Haji's eyes briefly flicked up under his eyelids.

"I don't see _your _costume, Nathan," Solomon chided. Indeed, the ancient Chevalier was just wearing a fairly plain, if a bit vintage black suit.

"This _is _my costume. Yuki and I are _themeing, _we're doing _Memoirs of a Geisha_. I assure you that this suit is appropriate, and I snagged Yuki's kimono back when I did _The Mikado_."

_Why is it that _you_ are the least_ _flamboyantly dressed person in the room? _Solomon thought irritably.

"Well then, shall we?" Freddie continued, beginning toward the _party room _with his wife_._ Solomon offered Diva his arm, and she took it without the slightest hesitation or excitement, as if it were simply a reflex.

As they walked through the house, Solomon noticed Diva steeling glances at him.

"Do you really hate your costume that much?" she asked, a little insecurely. "You're mad at me, aren't you?"

Solomon smiled placidly. "Oh yes, furious. I'll _get _you if it's the last thing I do." Solomon directed a slightly suspicious look at her. "Are you _sure _that it wasn't your dad who picked these out?"

"No, I'm afraid it was all me. I mean, they came from his huge stash of costumes, but I picked them out."

"Why did you chose _these_?"

"I guess I just thought they were pretty."

"Why _this _color?" he asked slyly.

She shrugged. "Dunno, I chose black for Saya's husband because he's kinda creepy, and – I just had this weird feeling that you'd look good in white." She grinned and checked him out yet again. "I was right, you totally pull it off. Makes you look like an angel."

His head snapped to the side and he stared at her in stupefaction. "Why do you say that?"

She shrugged again. "I guess it's because of all those corny old pictures, you know, where angels always had pretty Caucasian faces with flowing blond hair and white clothes."

"Hmm," he nodded, trying to regain his usual nonchalance, even though the question he'd been pondering for years had just been answered so unexpectedly.

They made their grand entrance into the party, held in the indoor-garden. Surprisingly (at least to Solomon), the decor displayed excellent taste, if a little bit garish. Part of the lawn had been covered by a romantically lighted portable dance floor, skirted by white clothed, flower strewn, candle-lit tables, with a buffet of various exotic fruits, cheeses and drinks on one side, and a fairly small string ensemble on the other. The hedges were all studded with clear fairy lights, and every annual flower not in bloom and been pulled up and replaced by something fresh from the nursery. The guests seemed to be pretty classy too, dressed in elaborate costumes, also mostly of a _historical_ nature – a few wigged Washingtons and mustached Einsteins , a Marie Antoinette here and a Cleopatra there… it seemed to be a contemporary, though nouveau riche conception of a medieval masquerade ball.

Knowing what was expected of them, Solomon and Diva both nodded and waved at various people.

"It really does look good on you, Solomon" Diva reassured, continuing to acknowledge the various guests.

Solomon gave a sigh of resignation, pointing to his legs. "I suppose, being a man, I'm just not used to showing off my legs. Feels a little exposed, you know."

Diva chortled. "Well, how do you think _I_ feel?" she gestured to her bust, "If it wasn't for the double-sided tape, these ladies might just pop out to say _hello_!"

"Diva -" he nagged her for the unladylike remark, mainly to take the attention away from the boyish smirk on his face.

Diva giggled impishly. "Oh _sorry. _Was that comment too sexy for your _delicate sensibilities_?" she teased.

Solomon took his time in responding to Diva, coolly continuing to wave and nod at the assorted lavishly dressed strangers, and finally answering, tone as composed and sanguine as ever. "Sexy is as sexy does. And to my knowledge, _you _are all _talk._"

Diva blushed and made a soft _eep! _Solomon gave a chuckle of triumph.

The host and hostess positioned themselves by the entry way, and motioned for the twins and their Chevaliers to join them in greeting the guests. The two young couples must have been quite a sight to the party guests, one pair in white and blue, the other in black and red – one might never guess which couple was the pure-hearted, incorruptible defender of innocent humans and her loyal knight, and which couple was the mad queen, and her ruthless henchman.

"Hello!" Freddie cordially greeted one passing visitor. "Please let me introduce you. You've met my beautiful wife, Yuki." He moved on down the line. "And you know our daughter, Diva, and with her tonight is a good friend of ours, Solomon Goldsmith of _Rosalie Medical_, and I am even more pleased to introduce you to our other daughter – this is Saya. She's been an exchange student in Japan for the past five years, and wouldn't you know it, she likes it there so much that this is the first time she's been home in _ages!_"

The guests probably would have been skeptical of this new daughter that had just appeared out of nowhere, if it wasn't for the obvious family resemblance.

"And with her is her music-tutor-turned boyfriend, Haji. He's the best known cellist in Okinawa, wouldn't you know."

Yuki leaned over to whisper to Saya. "I'm sorry precious, but we really can't tell anyone that you and Haji are married with two kids, it'll sound too weird considering that you're supposedly the same age as Diva."

* * *

After a dizzying number of introductions, copious amounts of polite chatter and many nibbles and sips from the refreshment table, the party was just beginning to wind down.

"Max! Wes! You guys are hella late!" Diva turned to her date, "Solomon, go get us some apple cider."

"If that is what you wish, Diva," he said under his breath, and did as he was ordered.

"And you're wearing the same costumes as last year! That's against the rules!" she continued chastising her friends.

Max rolled her eyes. "So, kick us out then," she dared.

Both were dressed a good bit less extravagantly than the other guests. Max was some sort of Southern belle; Diva knew perfectly well that the frilly hoop skirted gown was actually an old bridesmaid dress. Wes's costume didn't appear to match Max's in the least; he was just wearing his best black funeral suit with some dark sunglasses and an ear-clip phone, apparently an FBI agent or something.

Of course, Diva wasn't about to eject her two friends from the party, and proceeded to do what she'd been looking forward to for days.

"Saya, this is Max."

"So great to finally meet you, Saya!" Max exclaimed.

"And this is Wes," Diva continued.

"Ma'am," Wes grunted, low and stern, apparently attempting to stay in character.

"Pleased to meet you both. Oh, and this is my husband, Haji," Saya announced quietly, having been told that these two young humans had been made aware of various family secrets. Haji gave a polite nod. And astutely sensing that he wasn't particularly wanted at the moment and wasn't entirely comfortable with the young people, so he walked off to chat with the few members of the string ensemble, who happened to be taking their break.

"So, Haji and Solomon are both your, what are they called – Chevaliers?" Max asked curiously.

Saya nodded.

"Wow Saya, you have some _damn _good taste!" Max commended. "As a matter of fact, don't look now, but I'm pretty sure that bassist is coming on to your husband." She glanced toward Solomon, "And it looks like the vultures are circling your date too, Diva."

Diva looked over and saw more than one fairly attractive woman casually moving in Solomon's direction as he dawdled by the refreshment table. "Oh yeah. I guess we better go fend off the scavengers, huh, Saya?"

Saya shrugged, it had been a long time since she'd learned that Haji was always impeccably gracious-yet-coldly-disinterested with the women that routinely tried to catch his fancy, but Diva had no such confidence in Solomon. As a matter of fact, at this point, she hadn't established whether Solomon wasn't just the sort of guy who automatically flirted with every woman he saw, yet another potential explanation for his suave attentiveness toward herself.

The two sisters separated to rejoin their dates.

"Hello again," Solomon greeted Diva with the requested cider, carelessly shoving the extra cups onto a tabletop. "Having fun with your friends?"

"Damn straight."

Out of the corner of his eye, Solomon noticed Saya reuniting with her husband at the opposite end of the room.

"Diva, I'm a little curious as to your thoughts on Haji," Solomon mentioned.

"My sister's husband? I don't really think _of_ him."

"What are your impressions?"

"Um, I guess at first I thought he was a bit, you know, quiet and scary, but Saya seems to like him, so I think he can't _really_ be bad. From what she tells me, it sounds like he's just a bit of a nerd."

Solomon chuckled. "I know what you mean." He directed a sneaky, sidelong glance at Diva. "Do you find him handsome?"

Diva frowned; it was an odd question to be asked by your date, about your sister's husband. "Um, not particularly. I think he's kinda funny-looking, to be honest."

Solomon was surprised at how sincere she sounded. _Strange, she really doesn't seem to be attracted to him, even though in the past, she indicated that she was. Could it be that she's taken human conventions so much to heart that she refuses to admit that she finds her sister's husband attractive? No, that doesn't sound like her, somehow, I think that in such a case, she'd admit to her attraction and then try to laugh it off. But now, I get the impression that she really means what she says._

He thought a moment. _Or could it have to do with her having already successfully mated? It would make sense that the biological drive to mate with the other Queen's Chevalier ends after childbearing becomes impossible. No, that night with Saya, even afterwards, she still seemed as if she couldn't… resist me. But then again, that soon after intercourse, conception probably hadn't taken place yet, biologically speaking. _He raised an eyebrow. _Come to think of it, all of our old data on Diva's hormonal levels supports that theory. Could it go both ways? Is that the real reason why I'm no longer consumed by desire for Saya? It would make sense that the hormonal changes would be more gradual for the male…_

"Hmm," he grunted to himself, mulling over what unromantic consequences this could have had for the marriage he had once so passionately desired, as he gazed absently at his former lover and former rival.

"Don't get me wrong though," Diva abruptly added. "I think Saya made a good choice."

"Is that so?" Solomon asked interestedly.

"Yeah. I mean, Saya is so jumpy and emo, I can see why she'd end up with a cold-fish, you know, to mellow her out." She paused, directing a mischievous, yet slightly nervous smile at Solomon. "I think I'd do well with a mellow guy, too - as long as he also knew how to relax, have a good time."

That smug smirk returned to his face. "Hm, and I think I'd do well with a passionate woman – as long as she knew how to laugh, lighten up a little."

Solomon's head turned, momentarily distracted by a lovely sound filling the air, the string ensemble had started up again with the opening notes of a familiar Mozart waltz - the very one that associated with what had once been Solomon's happiest memory. He wondered if Nathan could have chosen it just to get to make him uncomfortable, but then again, there was no way the ancient Chevalier could have known that particular song had been performed at the fateful Lycee Ball.

_What if I… _

Solomon smiled wickedly. The moment the idea crossed his mind, it was already too late. He couldn't help himself. He had to do it. It wasn't _really _out of a desire to make his ex-lover jealous. It was more like a little boy poking a dead animal. Less malicious envy than morbid curiosity.

"Diva, why aren't we dancing?" he asked, insouciantly charming.

"Um, probably because I don't know how to do that kind of dance," she answered, a little brattily.

_Yes you do, _Solomon recalled fondly, _I taught you how to waltz ages ago. Your mind has forgotten, but motor memory tends to be more resilient. I'd be surprised if your feet didn't remember._

"Nonsense, let's go," he insisted pleasantly, grabbing her wrist and pulling her toward the dance floor.

"Solomon, no! I don't know how! I'll make a total ass of myself!"

He paid no mind to her protest. "You'll do fine."

"I said NO!" Diva shouted, attempting to pull her wrist from his hand, finding that while his grasp was deceptively gentle, it was also as escapable as an iron shackle. However, the gesture of her attempted flight was enough to make him realize that her refusal was sincere, as opposed to empty feminine modesty.

Unfortunately, he released Diva's hand just as she was giving one last, powerful yank, the inertia of which sent her stumbling backwards, and after a few clumsy, tottering steps, she fell, dress flying up as her rear hit the floor.

Diva's face instantly flushed bright red as her eyes darted across the faces of the various guests now staring at her.

Solomon chuckled as he extended a hand down to her. "C'mon then, you've already made a klutz of yourself, so now you have nothing to lose. You may as well dance."

She scowled at him, refusing his hand and standing by her own power. "You're an asshole!" she hissed through her teeth, and ran off.

Concurrent with the scene, Saya and Haji were playing wallflower at the other end of the room.

"Haji?" Saya asked abruptly, as she regarded her sister and self-proclaimed chevalier, still chatting civilly, at that time.

"Yes?"

"Do you think my sister is pretty?"

A bolt of dread shot through Haji's mind, though one would have been hard-pressed to tell by his still perfectly stoic expression. He knew that this was a perilous question for any husband, let alone when it concerned nearly-identical twins. An affirmative would certainly create jealousy, and a negative would be an insult to his own wife's appearance.

Haji briefly glanced back over his shoulder at Diva, appearing to calmly consider the question. "She does bear a noticeable resemblance to you. That should be all the answer you need."

"Hmm. Then I guess she'd be a good _substitute_ for me, wouldn't she?" Saya responded ponderously, observing her sister's subtly flirtatious body-language while conversing with Solomon. At that particular moment, Saya's true thoughts quite difficult to make out, even for Haji.

"You make it sound as if your appearance is your only admirable characteristic."

By the tenderness of his gaze, and more importantly, that immeasurable understanding that had grown between them through their years together - Saya knew was he was really trying to say. Even though a more romantic wording had eluded him, as it generally did, Saya knew he was attempting to explain that her physical form was only one facet of her beauty and his reasons for loving her. It was quite a compliment – every woman expects occasional praise for her looks from her partner, but a verbalized compliment to her unique spiritual and behavioral beauty is something rare indeed.

Saya smiled lovingly. "Haji?"

"Yes?"

"You have very nice legs."

For a second, his face displayed a rare look of overt confusion at the seemingly random compliment, and then he apparently realized what she was referring to.

"Do you really think I give one whit what Nathan thinks about my legs?" he replied through a faint smile.

"No," she answered innocently, "but I _do _think you probably give a _whit _what I think about your legs, and I just realized that it's a part of you that I've never admired out loud before."

Meanwhile, Solomon had followed Diva out onto the terrace.

"What do _you _want?" she huffed.

"Diva – look – I'm sorry." Solomon sounded genuinely apologetic, "I didn't realize how strongly you felt about it."

Her only response was another huff.

Solomon couldn't help getting just a little defensive. "Besides, you told me that you don't care what those people think of you, why would you care if - "

"Yeah, well, maybe I care what _you_ think of me!" she blurted angrily, sniffing back tears. "Maybe I didn't want to make a jackass of myself in front of _you_!"

"I _am _sorry, Diva." He leaned forward to place his patented, enchanting smile in her field of view. "What can I do to make it up to you?"

She glared at him irately. "Well, for starters, you could try not to act like a pushy, condescending jerk!"

* * *

The party had ended on that note, more or less. Diva spent the rest of the evening avoiding Solomon, save the occasional pouty glower, and following close at her friends' or her sister's heels.

It was now rather late, the guests and staff had all gone home, and Solomon was left wandering around the grounds, with nothing to do. At one point, as he ambled about the moonlit garden, he noted a presence from beyond the hedge. From the sound of its infrequent, slightly shuffled footsteps, they were just milling around, same as he.

_Haji._

Solomon's first instinct was to quietly back away, avoiding the interaction all together. But an idea came to him - a way in which Haji might be of use to him, for once.

"Nice night for a stroll, eh?" Solomon greeted.

Haji answered with a civil nod.

"Haji, can I ask you a question?"

"You may _ask._"

Solomon hesitated, barely believing what he was about to say. "Haji, am I a – _pushy, condescending jerk_?"

Haji turned to face him, regarding Solomon almost curiously before attempting to answer.

"You do project a certain air of – arrogance, at times. And I have noted that you have a tendency to disregard the feelings of others, when they conflict with your desires."

Solomon chuckled, expertly concealing his discomfort. "Well – thank you, Haji – I knew I could count on you not to sugarcoat it."

"Why ask _me_?" Haji asked tersely. "I doubt that I'm any more - blunt than Nathan."

Solomon chuckled again. "Nathan _is _blunt, yes, but he's _not_ honest."

_Come to think of it, he's probably the second-most deceitful person I've ever known._

"True," Haji agreed.

* * *

"What's wrong?" Aka said soothingly, trying to hide her own anxiety. "You seem down, you've been like this all day."

He kept on gazing blankly at the floor. "I'm just thinking about this dilemma, concerning your family's possible interference, and -" He stopped, looking even more depressed.

"And what?"

He paused, even more hesitant. "Even if they stay out of the way, I'm not sure I can beat him."

"Who? Solomon?'

He didn't answer, but it was obvious that this was who he was referring to.

Aka sighed. "He _is_ more of a badass than he looks."

"He's the one who taught me how to fight like a chiropteran," Jonah said somberly.

"Me too."

"One-on-one, I'm not sure I can beat him." Jonah shook a little as he crossed his arms. "I just wish I could get some kind of advantage over him, otherwise there's a very good chance that he'll kill me." He looked up at Aka. "I can't die, Akahana. Especially not _now._ I just _can't. _I want to stay with you – and more importantly, I have to stay alive, so I can keep my promise. I _have to_ keep my promise. Fighting fair doesn't matter, compared to that."

"Jonah -"

"I'm not worried about Saya, I would have killed her ten times over already if it wasn't for the meddling of others! Even if things do get out of hand with Saya, I'd still have my trump card," he took her hand, pulling it to his mouth, and pressed smiling lips to the pulse point of her wrist. "If necessary, I can always use your blood to finish her, it worked once before, from what you've told me." He released her hand and crossed his arms again, tone becoming nervous and bitter once more. "I just wish I had something similar to use against Solomon, but even if I was able to get a hold of Saya's blood, from what I've read, it can't harm him now that its power has been passed on to her childr -" he stopped abruptly.

"What?" Aka asked.

His lips formed into a chilling, fangy smile.

"I think I may have come up with a solution to _both_ our problems."

* * *

Solomon was passing the rest of the night in his usual way, sitting on the living room couch, going over numbers on his palm computer until dawn.

At one point, he heard the thumping of feet on the stairs. Again, he sensed who it was.

"Diva? It's nearly four in the morning," he called out, before she even entered the room. She didn't answer, silently padding across the floor and sitting down on the couch beside him. She didn't look even the slightest bit sleepy, just unusually serious.

Diva sighed as if in defeat before speaking. "I'm sorry about freaking out on you, earlier. That wasn't cool."

Solomon caught the subtext, that she'd been up fretting about this all night. He did his best to suppress a self-righteous grin. "No worries, I actually have it on good authority that you were absolutely right," he said, tossing away the computer.

"Huh?"

"Never mind."

Diva sighed again. "But still, I had no right to yell at you. I was embarrassed and took it out on you, and that's not cool, especially after you've been so nice to me. Then I was even _more _embarrassed, which made me extra grouchy, I guess." She began fidgeting, as she so often did. "And – I – I'm the last person who should be calling anyone _pushy_ and _condescending. _I _know_ that's how I come off, sometimes."

"Perhaps that's why we get along so well?" Solomon offered, lightheartedly.

Diva's features formed into a pensive frown. "But that doesn't quite make sense. You'd think that two people that have to be right and have their own way all the time – wouldn't be able to stand each other." She sighed, yet again. "I know how it works, you know, about how Chevaliers always love their Queen, at least in some way."

A wave of apprehension washed over him. _Could Saya have told her?_

Diva's posture slumped a bit. "I think you probably like me because I remind you of Saya." She spat it out all at once, like ripping off a band aid.

That was quite a relief. _She still doesn't know that I'm her Chevalier. _It was something that Solomon wanted keep from her, at least, for now. Romantic as the revelation might be at first, it would be inevitably followed by dangerous questions.

"Not really. If anything, I like you for your differences. I care for your sister very much, but – lately I've come to think – I'm not sure I _like_ her anymore."

"What?"

"Let me rephrase that," he back peddled. " Your sister is – she's as stubborn as anyone I've ever met, but she makes a secret of what she actually wants. She has to be absolutely cornered before one can wrench out her desires and feelings, as I think you learned the other day, in San Francisco."

Diva made her little thoughtful frown again. "I _do_ see your point, but I don't think that's very fair description of her," she defended her twin. "I guess she is kinda hard to read at first, but I don't have a hard time getting her to open up. But then again, I've got the whole twin-sister-mystical-connection advantage."

Solomon nodded. "If a woman can't be open with her twin sister, then she can't be open with _anyone_." He paused. "I suppose I'm just a direct person, and she's not." He gave a sober chortle. _No wonder she and Haji…_

"She's _direct_ with me," Diva muttered quietly.

"Well, whatever my disagreements with Saya are, I think it's fairly safe to say that I _like_ you, Diva." He laughed softly, mainly at himself. "Forgive the cliché, but you really _are _like a breeze of fresh air, in this - " he chuckled again, "- desolate, pointless life that's sprung up around me over the past several years."

Said with his usual pleasant, affable tone, it seemed all the more poignant.

Rendered speechless, Diva just gaped at him in wonder.

"What?" he asked casually, instinctive defensiveness compelling him to downplay the emotion.

It took her a moment to answer. "It's just that – I don't know what to say to that. My parents spent so much time teaching me what you're _supposed to_ say in various situations, but I have no idea what to say to _that._"

He smiled sweetly. "You don't have to _say_ anything."

For a second, her face took on that cute, pensive look, though this time, it was distinctly more wistful. And then, without word or warning, she lurched forward. Solomon was surprised by an abrupt kiss, a brief press of those lips that had inhabited his dreams for so much longer than Saya's, lips that were, in a way, more forbidden and sacred and unattainable than Saya's ever were.

Diva leaned back and studied him nervously, searching for a reaction on his ever-tranquil face. "Was that _wrong_?" she asked anxiously. "Is that not what you're _supposed to _do?"

His answer, while non-verbal, was far clearer than any words could have been. Without a second thought, he leaned forward, and Diva gave a little coo of surprise as his lips embraced hers, arms enclosing her snugly.

Even though she had started it, she was still bewildered with shock that this was actually happening. Though she was consciously surprised that this _impossibly_ desirable man was kissing her so eagerly, she still could feel that what was happening, unbelievable as it was, was still flawlessly - natural. It only took her a second to get a hold of herself and kiss him back, and only a second more before she was wholly entranced, capturing tiny, delectable sips of his mouth, slowly building to deep, sensual gulps, a symphony of silken lips and velvet tongues, swirling ever more intimately into delicious uncharted territory, one of her little hands grasping at the back of his shirt, the other aimlessly fiddling with his hair.

Surprisingly, it never even occurred to Solomon, how easy it would have been to imagine Saya in her place. After all, the only visible difference between them was the eyes, and those were shut at the moment. But even though the mouth he was kissing was physically identical to that of his former lover, it didn't stir even the slightest recollection of her, because the kiss itself was so different. Saya's kisses, the few he'd experienced, were invariably cold and awkward. Even mid-lovemaking, when they became fiercely erotic, there was still something unfeeling and distant about them, a kiss born of wild impulse, not love.

But _this… _this was how a kiss _should _be.

As he kissed Diva that night, the only thing that crossed his mind was – _I don't care. I really don't care. _

_I don't care if it's all just my blood. I don't deny it. I just don't care. What difference does it make? Look at Nathan and Haji – even if they only love their wives because their blood tells them to, does that make their happiness a lie? "True love," "false love," – no, that which is experienced as love, _is _love. And I feel that I love this girl. I want to have her and be hers. I could be happy with this girl. As happy as anyone can reasonably expect to be._

_This probably marks me as the most ridiculous flip-flopping turncoat that ever lived. And I don't care. _

_I have what I want, right here._

A half hour passed, and they still hadn't stopped. Diva still felt a little startled when she realized that she was laying back on the arm of the couch, Solomon kneeling between her legs, leaning over her, hands stealing over her stomach and shoulders, as if preparing for a sneak-invasion of a slightly more confidential area. When his hand finally met her breast, she let out a little uneasy squeak, like the virgin she assumed herself to be. But she made no move to stop him, nor did she have any desire to, reassured by the utmost tenderness of his caress, gently kneading the pliant flesh through her pajama top, as they kissed.

But Diva was also not to be outdone in terms of boldness, especially not after his early comment about her being _all talk. _She gathered her nerve in preparation to do a little explorative infiltration of her own. He gave a low sigh against her lips when her hand met the crotch of his pants, and she giggled softly, fingers softly surveying her intriguing discovery.

That was when they heard it, noticing it at the same time, despite his superior hearing. It was something utterly _terrifying_ – someone coming down the stairs.

Acting entirely on instantaneous instinct, the two of them shot to opposite sides of the couch, like a pair of naughty teenagers. They both listened carefully to the footsteps.

"It's your dad," Solomon whispered apprehensively.

They continued to listen, and fortunately, the footsteps turned toward the kitchen, instead of toward the living room. Now that the _danger _had passed, the two of them glanced at each other, immensely amused by ridiculous lack of finesse in their reaction, a second ago, trying desperately smother their own childish giggling with their palms.

Once the snickering had abated, Solomon found himself just staring at her again, entranced by the glow of her eyes, not from any demonic light, but simply radiant with love and promise.

After a moment, she looked down shyly. "I guess – I should get to bed," she murmured, suppressing a resurgence of giggling.

"Yes," he answered, adoring, but surprisingly composed, "that would be a _sensible_ thing to do."

Diva seemed to float as she walked away. Just as she stepped through the door, she directed a smoldering stare back at him, as if daring him to follow her upstairs.

And he was _sorely_ tempted to. But, impetuous, in love and turned on as he was, he recognized that it was a bad idea. Of course, it wasn't out of any moral concern about seducing a naïve, psychologically virginal high school girl under her parent's own roof. He probably should have been ashamed of himself, and even more ashamed of himself for _not_ being ashamed of himself.

No, he decided to wait because of her parents, her dad in particular. Not that he expected Nathan to come after him with a shotgun or anything. It was because Solomon knew that no matter how stealthy his approach was, if he snuck into Diva's room tonight, somehow, his smart-mouthed older brother would know – and Solomon would never hear the end of it. Only the threat of an eternity's worth of Nathan's teasing was enough to keep Solomon downstairs, that night.

But riding out the dissatisfaction wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been, distracted as he was by a bevy of new delightful dreams and plans – and this time, they were all entirely within his reach.

This was something he'd never experienced before, in all the many years of his life. Sure, he'd been in love, both with Saya and with Diva's previous incarnation, but both times that love had been accompanied with some level of doubt as to the loved one's reciprocating his feelings, an exhilarating anxiety that left him seething with passion – but in the end, left him despondent and alone. Conversely, many other girls had been in love with him, but fastidious and cynical as he was, he had never loved any of them back, at least not outside of a few overblown adolescent crushes in his nearly-forgotten human youth.

To love and be loved had never occurred at the same time, with the same woman. But this time was different – this time, the girl he loved was, beyond any doubt, in love with him, and no one with a prior claim was standing in the way. The thrill of challenging courtship was replaced by the infinitely more pleasant feeling of steadfast contentment, not born of immense and unstable self-assurance, but of the assurance of the one he loved.

_I love Diva… that seems so absurdly obvious now. _

The future had never seemed so flawlessly and inextinguishably bright.

* * *

Heating up, huh?

My (awesome) beta reader is on a temporary hiatus at the moment, so I have no idea how I'm doing! Please review!


	15. Fixed

Twenty-four hours had passed since the night of the costume party, a full day of rushed sightseeing, various other touristy activities and plenty of stolen glances and mysterious smirks between Diva and Solomon.

It was the last day of Saya's visit; the next day, they would all be bound for Okinawa.

"I'm _so _tired," Saya yawned, leaning on the edge of Diva's bedroom balcony, relaxing with her sister. "I think I'm gonna go to bed, 'kay?"

"Saya – just a second." Diva hesitated. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course, Diva."

Diva hesitated again, twiddling a lock of her hair. "I - kinda made out with Solomon last night."

Saya gasped, contented fatigue flashing to shock, making her seem way more surprised than she probably should have been.

Diva's face and voice instantly filled with panicked remorse. "Ohmygod, I'm SOOO sorry!" she practically screamed. "Saya, ohgod, please don't hate me! I'm sooo sooo sorry! I swear, it'll never happen again! Ohgod, I've ruined everything, haven't I?" she was crying by now. "We finally become friends and then I go and do something stupid like making out with your – I just thought that 'cause you have a husband, you wouldn't care, but still! Messing with your sister's ex is still totally fucked up! I'm so sorry, Saya!"

"Diva -" Saya's voice became suspiciously calm, but the words were intermingled with awkward pauses, her lips pressed tightly together, as if she was trying to hold something in. "It's okay, really – I was just a little – surprised - It's like you said – I _have _a husband - why would I be upset about you kissing Solomon? - and besides, he's not _really _my ex-boyfriend – it's okay, Diva."

Diva let out a loud, overblown sigh and threw her arms around Saya. "Ohgod! Saya! Oh, you have no idea how relieved I am to hear that! For a second there, I thought you were gonna hate me forever, or something! Oh! You are the best sister ever! 'Cause – I really _really_ like him! I mean, I could try to stop liking him if you weren't cool with it, but just between us - I think this is the real thing, you know? I can't believe -"

They were interrupted by a voice from Diva's bedroom door. "Diva! Phone!" Yuki yelled.

"Who is it?"

"Max!"

Diva grinned at Saya. "I gotta take this call, it might be a while too, I haven't told her about what happened with Solomon yet, and she'll want _all_ the details. You go on to bed, we'll have tons of time to talk on the plane tomorrow!"

Diva scampered off. Without thinking, Saya began pacing toward the guestroom, placid expression belying her true feelings.

She was halfway to the bed when she noticed that Haji was even in the room. Not surprisingly, Haji saw right through her composure.

"What is it?"

She slowly looked up at him, "It's nothing."

"… Saya, I thought we had a deal about secrets."

She exhaled, closing her eyes as she spoke, lips tensing even more. "Diva and Solomon are – are - "

Before she could even finish, her face was buried against his shirt, muffling her passionate sobs.

Haji's reaction was automatic; he put his arms around her and murmured her name soothingly. Over the past few days, Haji had picked up on a certain chemistry between Solomon and Diva, and had predicted that Saya would likely have mixed feelings if it came to anything.

But this didn't seem _mixed _at all. Rather straightforward actually.

Pure sorrow.

Contrary to what most people seemed to think, Haji wasn't made of stone. The idea that his beloved wife still carried such strong feelings for her former lover wasn't just disquieting, but painful, on a personal level.

And there was also something rather strange about her sobs. There were few, if any, things that he had more experience at than comforting a crying Saya – but this time, it seemed – different. More physical – her whole body was shaking, and it felt as if the quivering originated not in her throat, but deep in her belly.

Could it be that the discovery of her former lover's amorous feelings toward Diva, had hurled Saya into new heights of misery, that she felt more grief and regret over Solomon, than she ever had over any of the many tragedies of her life?

Haji noted that the sound of the sobs was different too; higher pitched and strangely staccato.

And then he realized that she wasn't crying at all. She was sobbing - with laughter. He leaned back to look at her, and as soon as the vocalizations were allowed to resonate, free of his shirt – it was quite obvious. The laugh was as silly and carefree as any he'd ever heard from her, even in their idyllic early years.

Saya grinned up at him, and noticed the distinctive look of confusion.

"Haji, it's so perfect, I'm so incredibly – happy! Don't you get it? This means that everything is _fixed. _Even though you went through so much trouble to convince me that all those deaths weren't my fault – there was still Diva and Solomon. Even if it was my duty, I was still the one who killed Diva, my own sister. And even if I never meant to hurt him, I _know _how much pain Solomon must have gone through over me. Nothing you ever could have said would have lifted those two things off my back. But now – both of those things are fixed! Diva's alive, and Solomon will be happy – they'll be happy together. The way things worked out – it's so perfect, that for some reason, I can't stop laughing! Isn't it hilarious? After all that fuss over me, now he's back with Diva!"

* * *

Forty-five minutes into the trans-pacific flight, Solomon was starting to feel the oppressive silence and dismal boredom, most functions of his palm computer having been disabled. Ordinarily, he would have pre-loaded it with some fresh reports or spread-sheets, or perhaps even a new book. But he hadn't bothered to this time, having naively assumed that he and Diva would be sitting together, thus the time could be passed with pleasant conversation, covert caresses, and perhaps, she would even fall asleep on his shoulder, like she did in the old days.

The seats of each row were set together in pairs. Freddie and Yuki sat together. Saya and Diva sat together.

… Leaving Solomon and Haji to endure each other's company.

Eventually, Solomon rose to his feet and discreetly peered over the top of Saya and Diva's seats, curious as to why they were so quiet.

They were wearing headphones, both connected to Diva's music player. But they were also looking right at each other, and every so often, one would nod or shrug or make use of various other unconscious gesticulations.

_I see._

"They seem to be communicating telepathically," Solomon mentioned, as he sat.

Haji responded only with a tiny _hm_ of acknowledgement.

Solomon's face drooped in an expression of mock-frustration. "Why is it that I get the feeling that they're plotting against us?"

That actually got a tiny snort of a laugh out of Haji.

Solomon leaned back in his seat. "I suppose we should try to become friends too, married to sisters – we won't be able to avoid each other anymore."

The mention of marriage was no slip – it served its purpose perfectly. The fact that Diva showed no reaction proved that the two girls really couldn't hear them.

"So, what do you say, Haji?"

"Haven't we had this conversation several times before?" Haji stated dryly.

"Yes," Solomon returned affably, "but neither of us _meant _it."

"True."

"But now that we no longer covet the same woman, it should be at least a little easier to get along, don't you think?"

"Possibly."

"So, will it be beer and football at your place or mine?" Solomon snickered.

Haji shot him a frosty look, and that was all the response Solomon really expected, until Haji opened his mouth after all.

"I am sure _you_ have a larger television."

Saya's happiness had apparently put Haji in a good enough mood for sarcasm. Solomon laughed, and Haji just smirked.

Silence settled in once more. That was actually fine by Haji, after so many years of solitude; he had no problems with sitting quietly for hours on end. But for Solomon, excited by a new love, sitting silent and still was not possible.

_Haji is no conversationalist, but he's better than nothing._

_But what can we talk about? I can only think of one thing that we have in common, and it's a sore subject._

_Wait…_

"Haji, did you know that I saved your life, once?"

_This should make an interesting discussion!_

Solomon grinned smugly, expecting a look of surprise and skepticism.

"Yes, I do."

"Really?"

"It was many years ago. At Yakota."

_He _does_ know?_

Solomon arched a brow. "How did you know that was me? If I recall correctly, you were blindfolded."

"I often remember people by their voices," Haji stated plainly.

"I suppose that's to be expected, for a musician. Hmm, _Struggle all you like, it won't do you any good _– Familiar?" He shook his head. "All along, you've known that I'd saved your life, and yet you've never shown even the slightest bit of gratitude," Solomon said, feigning outrage.

Haji turned his head. "I am grateful for my escape, but not to you. You may have instigated it, but you were acting on your own motives, and I coincidentally benefited from it. I owe more to luck, than to you."

"Now, how could you have known that?" Solomon asked, astonished.

"I heard you talking on the telephone."

"You did?"

"One tends to listen carefully, when blindfolded."

Solomon tried to think back to exactly what had been said.

…

Solomon held a phone to his ear as he sat in an office chair, impatiently tapping his finger on the surface of a the state-of-the-art laboratory control panel in front of him, the room filled with smoke from the cigarette of the worthless lackey sitting beside him. Solomon gazed inattentively through the two-way mirror. It didn't seem nearly secure enough to contain a chiropteran; bars not yet covering the windows, pipes still exposed in the un-reinforced walls. But he wasn't concerned about the potential escape of his ragged captive, held in place by thick, steel restraints, blindfolded even though _it_ only seemed half conscious.

Solomon could barely keep from laughing out loud as he waited for his big brother to answer the phone.

"Yes?" came the stern baritone.

"It's me. I thought I'd update you on events out here, if you're not busy at the moment."

"Alright. I trust that you know better than to waste my time."

"Oh believe me, you'll like this – or, well, I have bad news – or rather, mildly inconvenient news, and I also have some rather interesting news, but I should start from the beginning. So, the move to the new facility was going rather smoothly until last night, when two people hijacked one of our planes and proceeded to slaughter the live specimens, shoving several of them off of the craft. I won't insult your intelligence by telling you who these two hijackers were; suffice to say that the pilot claims that he was held at sword-point by a teenage girl, and forced to land in a field. Anyway, naturally I sent a crew out to retrieve the remains of the chiropteran specimens that had fallen from the plane during the incident. And, not more than three hours ago, I had the opportunity to inspect their haul, and -" he could no longer restrain the laughter, chuckling before the punch line like a bad comedian " – lo and behold, mixed in with the specimen corpses was none other than Saya's Chevalier!"

"Are you sure?" Amshel asked, still perfectly serious. "I believe you haven't encountered him before."

Solomon was a little disappointed that he hadn't managed to amuse his elder brother. "Quite sure. Considering the context, who else could it be?" Solomon laughed again, and then tried to sound professional. "Anyway, I have him adequately restrained at the lab. I would have just disposed of him straight away, but I recalled that you mentioned him the other day, something about an experiment you had in mind. Are you still interested in that, or should I just _take care_ of him now?"

"Hm," it was that noise that so often accompanied Amshel's evil smiles. "Excellent work, little brother. And you are correct, there is a way in which he can be useful. It wasn't a major priority, but I can move it up, considering that he's just fallen into our hands."

"What do you have in mind? You might be able to use him as bait, to lure Saya -"

Amshel gave a derisive snort. "_That _goes without saying. But in the mean time, I have a more interesting use for him."

"Something else?"

"I believe you are familiar with the anonymous letter I received recently."

"From the _Expert?"_

_Not long before that, Amshel showed me a tauntingly cryptic letter written by someone who obviously had an extensive knowledge of chiropterans, alluding to facts that should have been confidential to even the most high-ranking individuals in our organization. It was signed only as "The Expert," and had post-marks from Moscow. I think we were meant to believe that we either had a traitor amongst us, or the Soviets had a competing chiropteran research program. _

_Both notions were somewhat troubling, and it goaded Amshel into putting considerable resources into ascertaining the truth of the matter. But the Soviets had no such program, the investigations of our few people who could have possibly written it, were fruitless. In retrospect, it was almost certainly written by Nathan, his first attempt at manipulating us, not more than a few months before he introduced himself – but the flamboyant, lackadaisical opera-director – no one could have seemed a less likely suspect as the mysterious _"_Expert."_

_As I recall, that letter contained one particularly provoking passage, saying something along the lines of "you've been unable to breed her, haven't you? I bet you've tried, using humans and her own knights, but nothing ever comes of it…"_

"Yes. I have read the letter many times, and I believe that it carried an implied suggestion that Diva will be able to reproduce only if she is mated with the _other _Queen's Chevalier. That means Haji, as Saya is unlikely to ever make another."

Initially, Solomon was struck dumb by the outrageous suggestion; his finger stopped tapping against the board. "You mean you want Diva to mate with _him?"_

"It's the only thing we haven't tried."

"But - but from a biological standpoint, it's absurd! Only able to breed with the opposing Chevalier? Not to mention that you're taking a suggestion from someone who likely doesn't mean us any good."

"You reveal that you are not a true scientist, little brother. An experiment must be replicated many times before it _proves _anything, and this is often performed by professional rivals. I realize that particular explanation of chiropteran reproduction sounds far-fetched, but such is the case when any truly great hypothesis is put forward. Moreover, to put it frankly, I have a _good feeling_ about this. It was not priority of mine previously, but as you just said, Haji has just fallen into our hands, and I don't mean to waste the opportunity."

"But – do you really think that Diva would cooperate - ?"

"I believe so. She has expressed some degree of interest in him before, at least compared to previous candidates, and as you are well aware, I have my ways of procuring her obedience. Therefore, I will be making arrangements for she and I to pay you a visit as soon as possible. I expect Haji to be alive and functional when we arrive. Is that understood, Solomon?"

Solomon frowned angrily, but managed to sound just as calm and cheerful as he always did. "Your will is my will too, I'll trust your judgment as I always have, big brother."

"Good." Amshel hung up.

Still tapping irritably on the board, Solomon glared through the mirror at his insanely fortunate captive, unable to help envisioning this pitiful dog with his perfect Diva. A few months prior, he'd had to endure both Karl and James being given their chance with her, though he'd heard from Karl that it had come to nothing. But the idea of _Saya's_ Chevalier being given that sacred opportunity with Diva... At the same time, for some reason, he knew what Amshel meant by that "good feeling." Something in Solomon's gut told him that there was a good chance that _this_ man might succeed where he himself had failed. If it had been one of his own brothers, he might have been able to live with it. But the lowly servant of his defacto mortal enemy – such an enormous blow to his pride was entirely unacceptable.

But there was nothing he could do about it, was there? He could kill the captive – that seemed like the sort of thing that Karl would do. But if he did so, then Amshel would know that it was intentional.

And then the idea came to him.

Without even considering it for more than a second or two, that tapping finger flicked forward against the switch, minutely labeled _release restraints._

"Oops," Solomon muttered innocently.

The captive seemed to snap to full alertness, ripping off the blindfold and rubbing his sore wrists as he glanced around suspiciously. It seemed too good to be true, but also too good to pass up. Even if it was only a sadistic trick, he had to try. Pushing himself to his feet, Haji rammed his elbow into a nearby window, and was gone.

Solomon grinned.

_Idiot. _

And then he noticed his lackey, staring at him, mouth agape. "You – you did that on purpose…"

"My finger slipped," Solomon retorted, pronouncing the lie with remarkable skill. With that, he shrugged off his suit jacket.

"No you didn't, I saw it – " the minion stopped, noticing that Solomon was rolling up one of his sleeves. "What are you do – _hrgguhm -_ "

The man didn't even finish his question before his windpipe was crushed with a brief, but monstrously strong squeeze of his boss' hand. A method that didn't mar Solomon's pristine white suit.

"Hmm," he examined the scene, trying to decide how best to cover up his actions, far more concerned about Amshel than any legal authorities.

He smiled as a solution presented itself. With a flick of his wrist, one of the nearby pipes was ruptured, releasing a slow, but considerable stream of natural gas not more than a few feet away from the dead man's still lit cigarette.

Throwing his jacket over his shoulder, Solomon leisurely strolled out of the building, whispering a rehearsal of his explanation.

"Brother, please. I really have no idea what happened, it was after I had left the building, ask _any_ of the survivors. All I know is that there was some sort of explosion. What? No, we didn't recover the Chevalier's body – he must have escaped. I have no proof, but it would stand to reason that Saya came back for him and no doubt started the fire out of spite. As you know, the facility was barely operational, there was no security… "

…

"So you heard my side of that phone call?"

"Yes."

Solomon chuckled. "Still, you could've shown a _little _gratitude – and yet, when you saw me that afternoon at the Zoo, you attacked me, no questions asked." He thought a moment. "I suppose that part about using Saya as bait didn't sit well with you. Or, did you hear something of the theory of chiropteran reproduction?" Solomon's eyes narrowed. "Later on, you thought that was the only reason I was pursuing Saya, didn't you?"

"The thought _had_ crossed my mind," Haji answered.

A long pause.

"Yes." Solomon gazed pensively out the window. "Perhaps - you were right, in some way. It certainly had occurred to me that she was the only person in the world that I might have a chance of having children with. I wanted children – no, I wanted a family. A real family." He paused. "And realistically, I think there was a good chance that I might have gone renegade, even if I'd never encountered Saya. I was already rather disillusioned with it all. I wanted to have a will of my _own._ I suppose I was waiting for an excuse."

_Strange, how everything becomes so clear, once the infatuation wears off._

He looked back at Haji. "That's not to say that I didn't genuinely love - "

"I know." Haji interrupted him. "It has been a long time since I have recognized that, whatever your faults of character or history, your feelings for her were sincere."

Solomon chuckled again. "Well, I suppose it's kind of funny, the idea that I saved your life for the same reason I tried to end it, years later – jealousy. But, I suppose I have no reason to be jealous of you anymore. Except perhaps over Rosette and Lisette."

Another pause.

"You are welcome to see them, at any time."

Solomon laughed at himself yet again. "It's not just that you get to spend so much time with them. It's that – much as I might hate to admit it - you're so _good_ with them. All I know how to do is buy them presents. And I don't think I'm very good at that either."

"Some of your gifts are somewhat impractical."

"What would be a _practical _gift?"

Haji thought. "Perhaps dolls that are less fragile and dresses suitable for outdoor play."

Solomon nodded attentively, pulling out his computer and taking some notes.

"Anything else?"

Haji proceeded to describe various cartoon franchises that the girls were interested in.

The two men continued to discuss their children, just as Saya and Diva were silently discussing the two men. Or rather, Diva was jabbering on and on about how perfect Solomon was.

" … _I think I really do love him! I know, I know, I sound like some dumbass high school fangirl, but it's how I feel!"_

Diva wasn't disputing it with Saya so much as her own common sense, what little there was to be had.

"_It sounds silly, but – being with him just feels so – like anything else would be unnatural, you know what I mean? Do you ever feel like that about your husband?"_

"_Yeah,"_ Saya thought, a little bashfully.

"_I feel like I really am meant to be with him. Plus, he's super cute and he's a great kisser."_

"_Yeah, I guess he is," _Saya blurted out, telepathically.

Diva stared and pointed accusingly at Saya's blushing face.

"I knew it! IknewitIknewitIknewit!" Diva sang out loud.

Saya grimaced. _I have to be more careful, I guess this isn't that bad, but what'll it be next time?_

Diva's voice returned to Saya's mind, now sounding a little upset. "_But why did you guys lie to me? You both said that you weren't ex's!"_

"_Diva – it's true. We aren't _really _ex's."_

"_But you just pretty much said that you've kissed him!"_

"_Well, yeah. We have kissed before, and there was a time when we might have ended up together -"_

"_Might have? What kind of evasive horseshit answer is that?"_

"_No, Diva, I mean – a long time ago, we had the opportunity, and if things had turned out differently, we might have ended up together, but it didn't work out that way."_

Calming down, Diva nodded. "_You chose Haji instead?"_

"_Yeah."_

Completely out of the blue, Diva threw her arms around Saya, hugging her tightly. "_Aw, you really are the best big sister ever, saving the sweet, fun, cute one for me!"_

Saya hugged her back, smiling wryly. "_And don't you forget it!"_

As the girls settled back into their seats, Saya considered Diva's excited ramblings, and felt her sense of duty acting up, though a different duty than usual. The obligation to advise her naïve little sister.

"_Diva, I'm really, super-happy that you two are together – but the thing is – Solomon – he really – sometimes he can be -_ "

Judging by Saya's general vibe, Diva perceived what she was getting at.

" – _a pushy, condescending jerk?"_

"_That's not how I'd say it, but – yeah."_

Diva smiled contentedly. "_No worries with that. All you need to do is say _no_ in your big girl voice, and then he totally backs off."_

Saya was just about to dispute this, after a moment of consideration, she finally realized. Every refusal she'd made to him _had_ contained mixed signals. _I wonder if I had given him a flat, decisive _no, _he might have been less persistent… maybe… but I kind of doubt it._

"_Well, I hope you're right." I guess, if Solomon would listen to anyone, it would be her. _

"_Diva, the thing is, even after all these years, I still don't understand him. I don't think there's anything he could ever do, that would really surprise me."_

Solomon could kill a passerby in cold blood, or he could give his life to save them, either way, Saya wouldn't have been especially shocked. That's how incomprehensible he still was, to her.

"_Sometimes, I wonder if he doesn't understand himself either. Sometimes, I think he's a walking contradiction, a hypocrite, but other times, I think that he's just – confused."_

She turned to Diva. "_That's not to say that he's a bad person -"_

_At least I don't think he is._

" – _just hard to understand. I could be wrong but, they way I think of him - You know how they say that, in the world, there are followers and there are leaders?"_

"_Uh-huh."_

"_I've known a lot of both, and I think that – Solomon is a follower disguised as a leader. Someone who wants everyone, including themselves, to believe that they're in charge of their own destiny, but in the end, they get completely lost unless they have someone to follow."_

_So god help them if they chose the wrong person to follow, _Saya thought privately.

Saya sighed._ "I think Solomon is dependant, but he has too much pride to admit it… I'm not making any sense, am I?"_

Diva seemed to think on this for a long while.

"_Then, I guess he and I will have to walk side by side."_

Saya found herself smiling, but she wasn't quite sure why.

True to form, Diva suddenly threw her head back, letting out one of her melodramatic sighs.

"_Even though, I probably shouldn't be getting all excited about Solomon in the first place. Aside from putting him in his place, and the fact that _guys like him_ don't date _girls like me_, there're major logistical problems. He lives and works in New York, and I'm in LA. First of all, that sort of makes us _natural enemies_, but more importantly, it's a pretty freaking large distance. And then there's the fact that on paper, I won't be eighteen until August, and a big-shot business mogul is the exact sort of person who'd get nailed for that sort of thing, right? It's -"_

Saya interrupted her. _"Diva, listen. I really don't think you need to worry about those things. Solomon is a lot of things, but _timid_ isn't one of them. I may not understand him, but there is one thing I can say about him, beyond any doubt – when he really likes a girl, he'll do whatever it takes to be with her."_

_A few thousand kilometers and some legal technicalities probably don't even show up on his radar as impediments._

* * *

Mao had received a text from her husband, informing her that, for some stupid reason, the plane was stuck on the runway, and that it would be some time before he returned with the passengers.

Having put the twins to bed, she'd decided to kill some time by whipping up some sata andagi doughnuts for their guests. She actually kind of liked to cook, if only because it seemed to make people less afraid of her.

She was surprised when she heard the high tone of the doorbell. Kai and his posse wouldn't have bothered to ring it.

Mao was even more surprised to see who it really was.

"Aka?" she didn't hesitate to hug her stepdaughter. "Girl, what are you doing back here?"

But it quickly occurred to Mao that this was a problem. Aka and Ruka were not supposed to know about Diva, who would be arriving in a matter of hours. But after only a little consideration, Mao decided that it couldn't be helped, and was probably for the best. Saya and Diva had their time to get to know each other, and now it was someone else's turn.

"Hey, how are Rose and Lis doing?"

A strange question to ask, first thing. "Um, pretty good, they're sleeping upstairs -"

And then she noticed a dim figure looming in the shadows behind her stepdaughter.

Considering her career, Mao had razor sharp instincts when it came to this sort of thing. She switched on the porch light, carefully looking over young man, eyes locking on his face.

_I've seen him somewhere._

"Aka, watch out!" her voice raised even further. "_STRAWBERRY ROBOT BASEBALL_!"

Her reason for shouting something so random immediately became apparent. Activated by a voice lock, a well-concealed cabinet door automatically swung open from out of the wall beside the door revealing a full arsenal of firearms. A handy amenity for a yakuza boss.

She didn't notice, but Kai's Colt was absent.

And with impressive speed, Mao armed herself with one of the largest, most modern-looking guns she could reach, pointing it straight at Jonah.

"You're that Chevalier!"

Mao was known to have an exceptionally good memory for faces, and she had seen this one many times, during her research with Okamura, as well as a few dim glimpses from out Gray's window.

The desperate lovers pushed their way past her, into the house.

"Aka, get down! That son of a bitch isn't gonna crash _this _party!" Mao bellowed, gritting her teeth as she opened fire. Naturally, her target flashed out of the way, but she did manage to hit him a few times. Over the years, she'd become a marksman on par with her husband.

But Jonah didn't just evade, a demonic arm flew out and bashed her on the side of the head. Mao grunted as she hit the wall, sliding limply to the floor, the intruder looking down at her contemptuously.

"Jonah, stop!" Aka screamed.

He turned and looked at her curiously, as if he was surprised to see her there.

"Damn it Jonah, I told you I didn't want anyone to get hurt!" Aka shouted, kneeling beside her stepmother, examining the bruise and taking her pulse.

"What?" he returned defensively. "I _was _careful! She's alive, isn't she?"

"A knockout concussion is serious, Jonah!"

He rolled his eyes. "What did you want me to do? Just stand there while she filled my gut with bullets? Are we doing this or not? You said that Saya was returning sometime tonight, they could be here at any minute, and that's a family reunion I thought you wanted to avoid."

Before she could respond, they both perceived a groggy coo coming from the top of the stairs, accompanied by the slow patting of tiny feet. Rose and Lis were awake, no doubt from the shouting and gunfire.

"Akabachan?" Lis said it as all one word.

Akahana let out a low sob, pounding the floor with her fist, and then forced a smile. "Yes, sweetie_. _It's me._"_

"What were the noises?" Rose asked curiously.

"Oh, just the TV," Aka lied sweetly.

"Mama and papa come home?"

"No yet sweetie," Aka took a deep breath. "We're gonna take you out for ice cream, while you wait for them to get back."

_I'm sorry. But I promise, if everything goes as planned, you won't get hurt. But I'm still sorry._

The little Queens flew down the stairs, asking no further questions. After all, they had no reason not to trust _Akabachan._

* * *

My kitty says "I can has reviewburger?"

Seriously, I'm curious as to where you guys think I'm going with this.


	16. The Danger of Believing

Sorry guys, I know I'm waaaaay overdue, but between a 22-unit/quarter grad-program, internship and a weekend-devouring boyfriend, I haven't had a much time or thought to spare for this story, sadly. But I promise, I won't forget about it completely!

Note: this chapter contains more swearing than usual.

* * *

_Out of control._ That was the phrase she was searching for. _My life is out of control. Every aspect of my life is out of control._

So many rash decisions; each one seemed to make the next that much easier, stretching the bounds of her common sense, and now, the bounds of her conscience.

_Deciding to leave home. Deciding to go out with Jonah. Deciding to stay with him. Deciding to defend him. And now…_

Like falling, inescapable momentum hurling her from one mistake to the next, closer and closer to some looming catastrophe. As if there was nothing she could do about it, save surrender to gravity.

_It's okay,_ she reassured herself. _The only people who'll get hurt will be Saya and Solomon. They started this._

… _no, _I _started this. If it wasn't for me, they never would have found out about Jonah, and who he used to be. It's my fault that all of this is happening, and now I have to just suck it up. I put Jonah in danger, I have to do whatever it takes to get him out of it._

They'd taken Mao's car, mainly because that's where the stroller/car seats were. Aka unbuckled her seatbelt and turned around, leaning over the back of her seat, looking at the little Queens. Strangely enough, the kidnappers had made good on their promise of ice cream; the little girls were just chomping down the last remnants of their cones, colorful melted goo staining their night gowns.

"Rosie, Lizzy, have you ever had a shot before?" Aka asked soothingly.

_I'm sure they have. Even if they don't need vaccinations, I doubt they could get around the legal requirement, _Aka thought, opening up her purse, and preparing a pair of syringes.

The little girls nodded.

"Well, this is going to be just like that. Be brave for _Akabachan."_

She leaned closer to the oblivious hostages, gently sliding the needle into one arm, and then the next. Both girls gave a brief whimper, but were unconscious within seconds.

"What'd you give 'em?"

"It's a sedative, one of the few that works on - "

"Which one?"

Aka was a little surprised that he was interested enough to ask. "It's called butlybitimanotal-choloride. In large doses, it knocks out chiropterans, but I'm not sure how long it'll last on the girls, we never tried it on juveniles -"

"How much did you give them?" he cut her off again.

"Thirty."

He was silent a moment, not taking his eyes off the road as he spoke. "In a child that size, it probably won't last more than two hours, maybe less if they're disturbed."

Aka was astonished. "How do you know that?"

"I presided over the _clinical_ trials. Most of my subjects were of comprable size."

"Oh."

She really hated these little reminders of who he used to be.

"Well, whatever happens tonight," she said, "It won't be something that a child should see."

"Yes," he said, suddenly distant and listless, "no child should have to see their parents die. No matter who those parents are." He looked up into the rearview mirror, and his tone changed to charming enthusiasm. "But they are cute, aren't they?"

"Yeah," Akahana answered, smiling at the change of subject.

He turned to her abruptly, a wide, boyish grin across his face. "Let's keep them!" he burst out.

Aka stared at him. "What do you mean _keep them?_"

"Well," he began enthusiastically, "We can't ever have children of our own, and these ones are _so_ adorable!"

"No," she protested cautiously, "We have to give them back."

"But why?" he whined, "They'll be orphans after tonight anyway!"

"But – you gave your word that you'd give them back, didn't you?"

"Pfft!" he scoffed. "Oh dear, how could I even _think_ of breaking a promise to Solomon? He would certainly _never _do that to _me_!"

"Jonah, we just _can't_!"

"Well then, how about we just keep one of them? The brown-eyed one, people might actually believe that she's ours."

"No, Jonah!" she finally shouted. "You talked me into doing all this – I'm doing this awful thing for YOU! And damn it, I'm not letting it get any awful-er!"

He seemed to shrink into his seat, even as he snapped at her. "I haven't forced you to do anything."

For some reason, Aka felt a remarkably strong urge to argue that point.

She was beginning to realize. No, it had been some time since she'd begun to realize; it was only now, that she was allowing herself to admit it. Excuses for his odd behavior were becoming harder and harder to create. There was only one that she was still able to force herself to believe.

_It's the stress. Everyone acts strangely when they're under stress. When this is over, he'll be okay. _

"It'll all be over soon," he said as if he was reading her mind, voice an eerie monotone. "It'll all be over soon," he repeated, sounding like he was trying to soothe himself as much as her, "when Saya and Solomon are dead, I'll be able to stop thinking about them." He turned to his beloved, with a hopeful, yet hollow smile. "They'll shut up. Once I can hear myself think again, I won't have to think about anything but you, beloved. I don't want to think of anything but you, ever again."

His words stirred her curdling common sense; he was virtually admitting that this wasn't simply a matter of self defense. Aka eyes squeezed shut, as if she might be able to block out the assault of unwanted logic.

_I can't leave him. Not now, when he needs me the most. What kind of person abandons someone they love in their hour of need… I guess I know that his problems won't magically end tonight – but, people do get over things, eventually. In his whole life, he's never had anyone who really cared about him, that's why – he is, the way he is. So, logically, the opposite of the cause, would be the cure. If I just keep on showing him that I care about him…_

_I know it sounds stupid. But I have to have faith in him. Love, real love, is defined by faith, right?_

And still there was that faint echo, a voice that sounded just like the one she shared with her sister.

_Is faith, believing in something, no matter what, anything but a naïve delusion?_

* * *

It was nearly midnight by the time the travelers had been freed from the airport.

The entire group had been piled into an enormous van, not just Kai and the travelers, but David, Lewis and Julia as well. It seemed that they just couldn't wait to see, and no doubt judge, this rehabilitated Diva for themselves.

Even Diva herself, noticed the odd looks and stand-offish manner of these new aquaintances, but didn't pay it any mind.

"I'm so sorry for the trouble," Yuki sighed, "you all must have been waiting around for a good two hours. All that fuss over a fire alarm or something…"

"It couldn't have been helped," Lewis returned.

"Well, it was Diva's fault!" Saya declared, startlingly cheerful. "She broke her sandal this morning, it gave us bad luck!"

Diva laughed. "It was my cute flower flip-flops, too!"

The travelers were amused, but their hosts just seemed flabbergasted at the high-spirited, sisterly banter between the former mortal enemies.

Kai eventually collected himself enough to holler at the back seat. "We'll stop by our place, so you can pick up the girls."

Saya smiled, and Diva clapped with excitement. "This is gonna be so great!"

"Yeah," Saya agreed. "Tomorrow, we'll go to the beach, and maybe check out the castle, and later I'll make you eat goya champuru, and…"

"Miyagusuku-Jahana residence," Lewis announced, as if he were a bus-driver.

Kai hopped out the front passenger door and strode up the walkway, hoping for an excuse to let the Chevaliers handle the luggage.

"What the hell?"

After only a few steps, he sensed that something was wrong. The front door was wide open, swaying in the evening breeze. But the lights were on, and Mao's car was gone.

And then his foot hit something, small and light, yet clearly metallic. It made the distinctive hollow ping of shell casing.

"Oh fuck!" Kai bellowed, pulling his Colt from the waistband of his pants and charging into the house, just like his younger self. "Mao?" he frantically glanced around the dim room. "Mao?"

The rest of the party exchanged confused looks, and followed him inside.

After a moment or two, Kai perceived a low, airy groan, leading his eyes to the body lying prone on the floor. "Oh shit! Mao?" he fell down to his knees beside her, as any decent husband would.

Mao rubbed her head as she came to, groaning again.

"What the hell happened?" Kai demanded, still assuming that this was some yakuza-related attack.

"Give me a minute, my head's killing me," she moaned warily. But it was much less than a minute before she sat straight up, suddenly indifferent to her own pain. "Oh god, where's Rose and Lis?"

Saya had only just entered the room, and panic didn't occur to her, until that moment. Displaying a look of agonized shock, she flew up the stairs with every ounce of speed that her demonic blood allowed, bolting back down a second later, leaving a tangled web of blue tracers as she frantically searched the house. All this, even though she'd already sensed that the children were nowhere nearby.

Saya finally stopped in the center of the front living room, letting out a cry of anguish as she collapsed to the floor, narrowly caught by her husband.

"They're gone -" Saya sobbed, almost unintelligibly.

"What's going on?" David asked urgently, as the rest of the group assembled in the dim room.

"That bastard must have taken them, Rose and Lis," Mao snapped.

Kai looked intently at his wife. "Mao, you have to tell us what happened."

She stared back, just as intensely. "Aka showed up, it was weird; the first thing she did was ask about Rose and Lis. But of course I opened the door for her. That son-of-a-bitch followed her inside. I shot at him, and I'm pretty sure I hit him, but it barely slowed him down. Aka just stood there, she didn't fight him or anything. Then he whacked me on the head, and that's all I remember."

"Who? Who was it?"

"That Chevalier. The one from Okamura's pictures. The one that crashed Javier's birthday party."

Solomon grimaced as if he'd been kneed in the gut.

"Karl Fei-Ong," David spoke gravely. "The _Phantom."_

Saya stopped crying for a moment, looking up, wide eyed and shaking, as if she'd just been literally confronted by a ghost.

"It can't have been him, he's been dead for decades," Lewis countered.

"So was Diva, but that doesn't mean she's not standing in this room," Mao growled. "It was the one from my ex-husband's Vietnam pictures. I know what I saw, and I never forget a face."

"It's true, she really doesn't," Kai spoke up, to her defense.

"I'm not saying that you're a liar," Lewis back-peddled, "just that you're probably mistaken. It could have been another chiropteran pretending to be him."

"Holy shit," Kai mumbled to himself, raising his voice as he looked up. "It's Nathan!" he declared with apparent certainty. "Think about it! We never figured out what happened to him, and this is exactly the sort of thing he'd do. And who the hell else stands a chance of tricking Aka into doing something like this?"

"Why would Nathan Mahler pretend to be Karl Fei-Ong?" David asked skeptically.

"I don't know! Maybe because the guy was fuckin' WEIRD!"

"It's not Nathan," Solomon finally piped up, his voice coming out weaker than he expected it to.

"How do you know?"

Solomon sighed and pointed to Freddie. "Because he's been with us the entire time."

Freddie glared. "Oh gee thank you, Solomon! You know, I was just thinking that this situation isn't _nearly _complicated enough!"

"No, no, no…" Kai murmured, shaking his head. "It can't be…"

"You know, now that I think about it, it makes a hell of a lot of sense," Lewis admitted.

Kai shot to his feet. "What have you done with Freddie!" he demanded.

"Why does _everyone _always say that?" the ancient Chevalier asked no one in particular. The last word had barely left his lips when David slammed him against the wall by his collar.

"You son of a bitch! You tried to kill my son!" David roared, his famous cool abandoned in favor of entirely understandable rage.

Nathan was being a surprisingly good sport, by not fighting back. "I know, I know. Strangely enough, I had the boy's best interest at heart," he said, casually apologetic.

David responded by punching him straight in the face, and it turned out to be an impressively forceful blow, for a man in his late sixties.

"David! Stop!" Julia shouted, now holding a bag of ice to Mao's head. "I have just as much reason to hate him as you do, but this isn't the time!"

"Yes, David," the ancient Chevalier added, still in his grip. "You can run me out of town on a rail later, but for now, two little girls are in danger of their lives, and a superhuman devious bastard could probably come in handy."

"Damn you!" David growled, releasing him.

Lewis guided the conversation back to the situation at hand. "But it still doesn't make any sense that we're talking about Karl Fei-Ong. How could he possibly be alive?"

"Because the American's apparently stole some of Yuki's blood, and applied it to his remains. From what we were able figure out, he's been living as an amnesiac in New York ever since we blew up the facility that he was almost certainly revived at," Solomon explained wearily.

"Obviously his memories have returned," the ancient Chevalier added, glaring at Solomon once again. Though at this point, Solomon was surprised that Nathan hadn't yet called him out for his insubordination.

"You knew about this?" Kai demanded.

"Yes, Yuki received an email from Ruka, describing Aka's situation. If it hadn't been for that, we wouldn't have known anything about it," Solomon recounted, "Nathan decided it would be best to keep it to ourselves for the time being -"

"This still doesn't add up! How did Aka get mixed up in all of this?"

"Because she's in love with him," Solomon stated regretfully.

"That doesn't make a damn bit of sense!" Kai protested.

"Apparently the two of them met by chance, and became involved," he explained.

"This is un-fucking believable!" Mao sighed.

"Yeah, it is unbelievable," Kai grumbled. "I raised that girl from the day she was born, there's no way she'd get mixed up with a nut-job like him, let alone get talked into helping him with his fucked up crap! She has to be his hostage, or something!"

"Well unfortunately, you're wrong," Solomon returned, staunch but somehow wistful. "It's remarkably easy to do things you never thought yourself capable of, if it's for the sake of someone offering you love and hope, in place of loneliness and despair." It went without saying that he was speaking from experience. "Considering how Akahana isolated herself from her family and friends, and no doubt felt alienated from a society that will never accept her true nature, it's not that surprising that she would end up -"

"Oh will you SHUT UP!" Nathan groaned. "We can figure out _how_ this happened later! What we need to be discussing is how to _fix _it!"

"Saya," Haji said quietly, just speaking to her, not the whole room. "Did you turn your phone back on, after leaving the plane?"

Saya instantly flew up to her feet, shoving a hand a hand into her jacket pocket, fumbling with her phone so clumsily that it slipped out of her hands, caught by her husband.

Knowing what she intended to do, Haji flipped it open and pressed the power button, holding the screen up for his trembling wife to see.

The display carried an extremely ominous message.

_1 missed call. 1 new voicemail._

Again knowing what had to be done, Haji navigated to the voicemail file and initiated the playback. The room was so dead quiet that it didn't even need to be set to speaker for everyone to hear it. The message was prefaced by a robotic voice, announcing that it had been received a little over three hours ago.

"_Hello Saya!"_

The familiar voice brought a wincing jolt to the shattered mother, and her face turned as pallid as a reanimated corpse, like the one she was hearing.

"_If you haven't already, you will soon realize that something of yours is missing." _The voice was mockingly carefree._ "But don't fret, I assure you, the children are safe and sound, as a matter of fact, their auntie is treating them to ice cream at this very moment. And if you do exactly as I instruct, they will be returned to your family, unharmed. Now listen carefully._" The tone turned a little more serious, but still disturbingly bubbly for a random message. "At two am, Saya and Solomon are to be at the clearing, near the intersection of Nariakira drive and Arakawa access road. If anyone other than Saya and Solomon are present, I will consider the terms breached. If Saya and Solomon come alone and on time, we will make a fair exchange. Two lives for two lives."

There was a long bout of manic laugher. "I look forward to seeing you soon."

"_End of new voicemail," _the robotic cell phone voice announced coldly.

Horrific silence gripped the room for quite some time.

"We have to do what he says," Saya burst out sobbing. "We have to…"

Everyone in the room looked astonished at the incorruptible warrior so readily caving to the madman's demands, it would have been far more like her to grab her sword and charge off into the night. But it seemed that to Saya, the stakes were just too high compared to trivial considerations, such as pride, integrity and her own life.

It seemed that her enemy had discovered her one true weakness.

"No we don't!" Yuki declared resolutely. "There has to be another way!"

"I won't risk it!" Saya retorted, still sobbing.

"It's a risk, no matter what you do! Remember, the guy is completely nuts, there's no way to know if he'd make good on his promise, even if you and Solomon gave your lives. There has to be a way to fix this, WITHOUT you and Solomon offering yourself up as sacrifices to that bastard!" The ancient Queen looked meaningfully at her husband.

"God damn it, this is a worst case scenario of a worst case scenario!" Nathan began pacing back and forth like a caged animal. "But there's a solution to every problem. There has to be a way to fix this!" He paused a moment to stamp his foot. "But there's no fucking time! If I had a few days, I could take on a new persona, try to gain his trust – but there's no mother fucking time!"

"What about Ruka? Maybe she could talk some sense into -"

"No good," Nathan scoffed. "Whatever happens, we can't get Ruka involved. The last thing we need is another sisterly feud."

Diva took particular note of that little statement, though by this point, she had virtually no idea what was going on. However, Diva was perceptive enough to recognize that whatever was happening, it was very serious, and that she'd better do her best to keep quiet and out of the way.

"But it's not a bad idea in principle," Nathan continued. "If we could manage to handle this with negotiations, avoid bloodshed altogether." He sighed deeply. "Unfortunately, the only one who was ever any good at calming Karl down to a rational state, was Solomon. But seeing as Solomon is now on his _to-kill_ list, I doubt that'll be an effective plan."

"What about Diva?" Solomon burst out, giving voice to a sudden burst of insight.

Nathan turned and stared at him in shock. "My god, the idiot's right -"

The hope in Solomon's voice was palpable. "For all his disobedience, in all those years, I never knew him to defy a direct order from Diva. Whoever he thinks he is now, I doubt that fact has changed."

"Yes. Yes!" Nathan declared in crescendo. "That just might work!"

Diva just couldn't hold it in a second longer. "Can someone _please_ tell me what's going on here?" she whimpered.

Her mother took her hand, and spoke soothingly. "Yes precious. You know how we told you that your Chevaliers were bad men, and that your sister and her Chevaliers killed them? Well, apparently one of them has been brought back by the same means that you were, and has kidnapped Saya's girls as a plot for revenge, trying to use them as bait so he can kill Saya and Solomon."

Her dad took up the rest of the explanation. "But if you were to go in Saya's place and command him to turn the children over to you without a fight, there's a very good chance that he'll do it."

Nathan had barely finished his sentence when Diva's attention was snatched away by something else. Saya was kneeling at her feet, abjectly clinging to the hem of her skirt, tears of desperation pouring from her eyes.

"Please," she choked out in quivering sobs. "Please. Please get them back. I'll do anything you want. I'll give you my life instead, just please get them back -"

"Saya!" Diva exclaimed chidingly, descending to her knees beside her sister, embracing her warmly. "Why the hell are you _begging_ me? Of course I'll do it! What decent person wouldn't do everything they can to rescue two little girls, let alone their own nieces? I'll get them back for you. You're not gonna die, you're gonna watch them grow up into beautiful young ladies. I promise."

* * *

Moved as she was by Diva's vow, it was a few minutes yet before Saya was able to stop crying, laid out on a couch by her husband, and wrapped in a throw blanket by her sister.

The only words Saya had spoken was an uncharacteristic request for a cup of blood, that she'd downed like a shot of liquor.

"Well then, now that that's figured out, Solomon, can I have a quick word with you, outside?" Nathan asked, suspiciously compassionate.

_Here it comes…_ Solomon thought. The two Chevaliers walked out into the side yard, both too preoocupied to notice that Diva had followed them, and positioned herself just on the other side of the back door. Still thoroughly confused about the current crisis, she was desperate for more information.

"I suppose this is the part where you berate and threaten me," Solomon muttered.

"No," Nathan chirped, still ostensibly calm. "I just want to know what the hell was going through your pin-head, when you decided to go back on your word, and let Karl live." By the end of the sentence, the old knight's fury was quite apparent, shouting intimidating close to Solomon's face.

"I observed him myself. Two weeks ago, he seemed entirely harmless."

"Oh yes!" Nathan howled sarcastically, "after all, you and I are _exactly_ as dangerous as _we _seem."

"He didn't deserve to die. He'd done nothing wrong -" Solomon fired back fearlessly.

"Didn't _deserve_ to die? Thousands of people die every day, and how many of _them_ deserve it? The world isn't fair, so you do the best you can for yourself and yours. For some reason, I thought you of all people would understand that, that if I could trust anyone to do this, it would be Amshel's merciless top enforcer, his own pet assassin! It would appear that I've underestimated just how _twisted_ your conscience is!" Nathan's voice was half way to monstrous. "But you know what they say about _if you want something done right."_

"It's not as if I just stood by and did nothing, I did take some precautions to prevent a situation like this. You said it yourself, that Aka's mere presence would likely be the trigger for the return of his memories. So I called her up and explained something of his past, and that if she didn't leave him, I'd be forced to kill him. As far as I was aware, she did just that -"

Nathan's mouth dropped open, looking utterly shocked. "How – how can you POSSIBLY be so stupid?" he stammered. "Karl was psychotically bipolar with abandonment issues! And you thought that making his girlfriend break up with him was going to _help_?" Nathan grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him violently. "And look what your idiocy has gotten us! I'd kill you right now, if your life wasn't the price of Rose and Lis!" His voice finally morphed into its demonic form. "And so help me, if anyone dies tonight other than Karl, I swear to hell, so will you!"

"Nathan!" Solomon interjected authoritatively. "My children have been kidnapped by a lunatic, and their mother and I may have to pay for their safe return with our lives. Do you really think that your threats make one bit of difference to me?"

Diva's palms stifled a gasp from her hiding place behind the doorway.

Nathan's hands dropped off of Solomon's shoulders. "Well, as long as you recognize where the fault lies."

"I am not at fault for this, Nathan. When will people understand that I am not my brother's god damn keeper? I am not accountable for Karl's actions. This is not my fault." Solomon stared back defiantly. "But it is my _responsibility._ And I _will_ do whatever it takes to get the girls back. Should it come down to it, I will not hesitate to give my life for them. I may not be much of a father, but at least I can do that."

"God damn you for being reasonable!" Nathan roared unexpectedly. "But I suppose you're right. If Rose and Lis die, that in itself will be an appropriately dire punishment - to spend the rest of eternity knowing that you're _responsible _for your children's death."

Diva's eyes were like dinner plates by this time, her hands still held to her mouth. She had indeed heard correctly.

* * *

The whole crew was crammed into the van again; even Mao insisted on coming, against Julia's orders. They would wait in the car, to provide moral support, and backup, should things go wrong.

Of course, Saya also insisted upon being present, fully prepared to die, if the rouse failed. But despite the blood she'd imbibed, her condition had deteriorated over the last hour or so. By now, she was completely catatonic, sitting in the middle-back seat, limply resting her head on her husband's shoulder, while to her other side, her sister sat, holding her hand, and repeatedly assuring her that everything would work out.

"Saya, think about it," Kai joined in, "What's the absolute worst that could happen? He'll use Aka's blood to kill them. But you can always use your blood to bring them back."

Yuki gave a hesitant groan.

"What?"

The ancient Queen sighed. "I know I probably shouldn't be saying this but – it's unlikely that Saya's blood would do them any good, under those circumstances."

"Why?"

"It's pretty much for the same reason that the blood of the mother only works once in a century or so – for most intents and purposes, once in a life time. Rose and Lis are very young. They've only just _recently_ been weaned off Saya's blood. It's out of their systems, but they're still acclimated to it." Yuki swallowed. "In the old days, there was song, one of our oral histories, that told the story of a Queen mourning the death of her young children, because of that."

"We're basing this on a song?" Kai spat.

Yuki glared. "If you know of a more reliable history of my people, than by all means, share it."

"That reminds me," Julia mentioned, "do you think he's taken the children, to use their blood as a weapon against Solomon?"

"He probably just took them for leverage, to make us play his sick little game," Mao said. "People will do whatever you want them to, when you have their kids. It's not a tactic I've ever used, but it is why I had a bodyguard since kindergarten."

"Spoken like a true mob boss," Nathan commended. "But I think you're probably both right."

"But will the children's blood actually work against Solomon?" Julia directed the question at Yuki.

The ancient Queen frowned. "Why are you looking at me? There're some things that have just never come up in history. In the old days, men like Solomon wouldn't have lived to find out something like that!"

Mao changed the subject as she took notice of road signs along the way, "Why the hell do you think that Chevalier chose this location? I mean, where the hell are we, anyway?"

"Near the dam," Solomon said, hand loosely coving his forehead in that sudden-headache gesture. "He probably chose it because it's a rather isolated area, especially at night. There's a large clearing there where Nathan and I used to take the girls for flying lessons and the like."

Silence prevailed until the van's wheels ground to a stop on some remote, gravel road.

"According to the GPS, we're a quarter mile away. You two should probably get off here," Lewis suggested.

Diva gave Saya a tight, but one-sided hug. "I promise, I'll get them back for you. I promise."

Saya responded with a low coo.

Diva placed a familial kiss on Saya's forehead, and looked up suddenly, clearly startled. "Her temperature – she's burning up," she whispered fretfully as she slid out of the car.

Haji looked down at his wife with concern, taking the hand that Diva had been supporting.

And then he noticed.

It was a crack in the surface of her skin, extending diagonally from her elbow to her mid forearm. But it wasn't the sort-of crumbly glittering-red lattice that was indicative of crystallization. It was more like an exaggerated stretch-mark, as if she was literally about to burst.

Haji hastily rolled down the nearest window, motioning to Solomon. "Please – hurry."

As the two of them walked through the murky jungle toward the crossroads, Solomon realized that there was yet another danger in this situation.

_If Karl recognizes that Diva doesn't remember anything, he'll try to force her to drink his blood. _

"I heard you and my dad talking," Diva mentioned solemnly, distracting Solomon from his fretting.

It took Solomon considerable effort to maintain his usual calm. "And?"

"Are you really - their dad?"

Solomon looked down. "No. Haji is their _dad_. I'm only their biological father."

The look on her face was something between shock and anger; for a long moment, she seemed too upset to speak. "Why did you both lie to me? You _both _said that you were never really together, but if you're their father, you must have been- "

"The situation was rather _complicated_," Solomon interrupted.

She looked as if she hadn't even heard him. "Does her husband know?"

"Yes. As a matter of fact, he agreed to it."

Her brows shot up. "How does that - ?"

"Listen Diva." Solomon sighed deeply. "There was no way for Saya and Haji to conceive a child together. I was asked to – assist in that capacity."

"Why couldn't they have kids? What, is he impotent or something?"

"No – I mean, I don't know. But I'm surprised that your parents haven't explained it to you, that a Queen cannot conceive with her own Chevalier."

Even as the words left his lips, he realized his verbal misstep; a careless mistake easily attributed the inevitable distraction of the situation. All he could do was pray that she wouldn't notice it.

But no, in this case, Diva was sharper than he gave her credit for. "But – that doesn't make any sense. You're her Chevalier too, right?"

Solomon didn't answer, still trying to create some sort of diversion or excuse.

Diva's eerie intuition was starting to kick in; she came to the heart of the matter with one simple question. "If you're not her Chevalier, then whose Chevalier are you?"

Solomon appeared in front of her, staring her straight in the eye, speaking with a definite note of entreaty. "Diva, these are difficult questions for which there are no easy answers. But this isn't the time; we'll be reaching the location any moment now. We both have to focus on the situation at hand."

She gave him a questioning glare as she pursed her lips and nodded reluctantly.

Solomon's mind returned to his concern from earlier.

_She has to be _convincing.

"Now then, Diva, when you face him, it'll be necessary for you to act – differently."

"Differently how?'

Solomon was surprised at how difficult it was to tactfully articulate it. "Well, first of all, you have to be sure not to show any fear."

"Be brave. Got it," she said resolutely.

"No. Don't be brave," he corrected awkwardly. "Don't be _anything._ Try to be as _blank _as possible. And it would probably help if you laughed at inappropriate times."

Diva giggled uncomfortably. "You make it sound like I was some sort of Hollywood-style crazy person!"

Solomon's lack of an answer sent a bolt of terror throughout Diva's body. She came to a dead stop.

"Oh god," she murmured, disturbing intuition taking hold, once again. "That's _it_, isn't it? It all makes sense. That's what everyone's trying to hide from me." Her voice cracked. "I was _crazy._ That's _it_." She paused. "A crazy chiropteran would be – extremely dangerous." She turned to Solomon, with wide desperate eyes, overwhelmed by spine-chilling déjà vu. "Oh god. What did I do?"

In lieu of any real explanation, he abruptly pulled her close, embracing her so tightly that it was unclear as to whether it was directed at emotional support, or physical restraint.

"Diva," he spoke even more soothingly than usual. "I promise, when all of this is over, you and I will have a _very_ long talk. I'll answer any questions you want, and I'll answer them truthfully. I swear it. But for now, we have an important mission to accomplish."

* * *

Stay tuned! As you can probably guess, the next installment will be rather climactic.

Don't forget to review!


	17. Crossroads

Alrighty, now it's winter break, thus I finally got some time to finish this chapter, and boy it was a b!tch to write…

Note: This chapter contains graphic violence.

* * *

Just as Solomon recalled, it was the intersection of two dirt roads, surrounded mostly by dense jungle, but with a wide, grassy clearing on the north corner, no doubt created during the construction of the dam. The dam itself loomed an eighth mile away or so.

And standing atop a slight hill in the clearing were three shapes. The easiest to make out was the sullen-faced young woman clad in a shiny red trenchcoat, loosely clutching a still-sheathed Katana. Beside her stood a neatly dressed young man - Solomon was actually a little surprised that he hadn't readopted his old phantom costume. The face was framed by long black bangs, eyes startlingly wide, spheres of white dotted with black. Anyone else would have likened it to a look of elated surprise, but to Solomon it was more like the look humans usually got when enveloped in complete darkness, eyes as wide as possible to let in the maximum amount of light. It made Solomon think of himself as a young soldier at the bottom of a trench, frantically palming around in the dark, a lost and confused soul warped by evil circumstances.

And beside the couple was a far less clear shape, that was eventually identified as a double stroller, bearing two sleeping but unharmed little girls.

"Saya!" a familiar voice called out, enthusiastically cordial. "So glad you could make it. And good! You brought my vile brother. I have nothing to say to _him_." His grin widened, " But _you… _I'd like very much to introduce you to someone," he reached to his side and pulled his companion close. "This is my beautiful _bride_, Akahana." He now spoke with a striking arrogant cheerfulness, as if trying to inspire jealousy in an ex-girlfriend. "You see, it would appear that I was wrong. You are not my soul mate, after all. There is someone else who can understand me, and she is perfection made flesh. She loves me as much as I love her, and neither you nor my despicable brother will separate us. We are both willing to do whatever it takes to remain together , as we are meant to be. I cannot allow you to kill me, because that would mean I would not see my Akahana again, and I cannot allow her to die with me, so that leaves me with only one option – to kill you both, and live on with my beloved."

Solomon decided that it was time. He motioned for Diva to step forward.

Diva drew in an excessively deep breath, as if about to jump off a waterfall, and stepped out of the shadows of the forest, moonlight washing away the safe veil of darkness.

"Kaaar-rl!"

The sound sent a chill up Solomon's spine. It was a brilliant performance, saying her Chevalier's name in that distinctive childish, singsong tone. Where he should have felt proud and relieved, he couldn't help feeing a deep unease.

"What?" Karl yelped, shocked and terrified. He too recognized that voice. "No, it can't be. This is a trick!"

"Kaaar-rl!" Diva repeated, slowly approaching the kidnappers, hesitating a moment to remember the phrase Solomon had suggested she use. "I want those babies. And I want them _now_!"

"No!" he shouted. "That's not possible!"

"You know that it's possible. Just as you were brought back, so was Diva," Solomon stated.

"No!" Karl's voice had become an anxious growl.

"Karl, stop playing around! I want Saya's babies. They're cute and I want them." Diva's voice deepened, becoming more demanding. "Give them to me now!"

Karl just trembled and stared, finally stepping aside, as if hypnotized, leaving an open path to the children.

But just as Karl moved aside, Akahana stepped forward, face alight with an infinite number of emotions.

"Is it really you?" she whispered, gazing at Diva in sheer awe. "Are you really Diva?

Just the slightest note of anxiety crept into Diva's countenance. "Of course it's _me_."

No one had even tried to explain who Aka was to her, no one had the time or the nerve to come up with a suitable lie, or an adequate account of the truth.

Tears were rolling down Akahana's cheeks now. An orphan since birth, she'd wished of this for her entire life, even knowing that Diva had been insane. To see her mother with her own two eyes, to stand on the same earth, breathe the same air as the woman who gave birth to her – these were things trivial to most people, but were soul-burstingly poignant to Akahana.

She reached out to her mother, gingerly touching her cheek, confirming that she wasn't a hallucination. The wistful frown became a girlish smile as she seized Diva's hands, shaking them excitedly. "Do you know who I am?" she giggled tearfully.

"Um, no." Diva directed a nervous glance toward Solomon; the rouse was cracking.

"I guess you wouldn't. My name is Akahana Miyagusuku. People always say that I have my father's face with my mother's hair and complexion." Her smile widened. "I'm your baby. All grown up, but I _am_ your baby."

"I don't have any children!" she said, trying to laugh. Of all the wacky suppositions she'd had about her past life, the idea of being a mother had never even crossed her mind, and if it had, it would have been dismissed as _unfathomable._

Karl's eyes narrowed fiendishly, pushing Aka out of the way, taking her place before Diva, standing over her menacingly. "What did you say?"

Diva looked toward Solomon again, fueling Karl's suspicions. "She wanted those children more than _anything._ There's no way in hell that she would forget them. Unless -"

He seized her face by the chin, looking down at her with a drilling stare. "You don't remember who you are." The glare drooped into an expression of intense pity. "They've denied you your _self,_" he said, tone dripping with genuine sympathy. Without taking his eyes off hers, he raised one hand briefly to his face, slitting his palm with his teeth.

"Quickly, drink. I'll save you! You can be your glorious self again!"

Diva was leaning, arching her neck back as if he had bad breath.

"No!" She slapped the hand away, leaping backwards. The fear was infinitely greater than the temptation.

Karl still just looked sympathetic. "What have _they _done to you?"

Diva just shook her head, taking another step back. "No! I don't want it! I want to stay _me_!"

"It's alright," Karl coaxed. "It'll make you yourself again. You can come with us." He laughed. "You'll be my dear mother-in-law."

Solomon appeared between the two of them, extending one arm to block his brother's way to Diva.

"Karl. Stop it."

Karl's eyes instantly ignited into a scarlet blaze, and without a moment's thought, he swung a demonic arm at Solomon, with a clear intention of removing his head.

Solomon blocked it with the side of his forearm.

"How could you?" Karl growled.

Solomon twirled his arm, simultaneously freeing himself from the lock, and transforming his hand into his signature weapon. Karl swung again, but Solomon evaded with a long, arching back-flip

"Karl, you don't understand -"

"I understand perfectly! You gave her to the Red Shield, so they could deny her herself, and turn her into their pawn. That's low, even for _you_!"

"Now, wait just a damn second -" Aka attempted to interject.

"I may have pledged myself to Akahana, but I cannot let this stand," Karl declared resolutely, moving into a clear offensive stance.

Solomon sighed wearily, throwing his first blow. "I was afraid it would come down to this."

Karl blocked it with his talons, but the force was great enough to shove him backwards.

"I tried my best for you, Karl." Solomon explained wistfully as the duel began in earnest, "I've always tried to be there for you; even recently, I went out of my way to protect you."

"LIAR!" Karl roared hurling his claws passionately at his brother. "You deceived me! You held me back! And then you killed me!"

"Karl, I had no choice," Solomon said, calm but sincere, driving back his opponent with superior strength and skill.

"There is ALWAYS a choice! But you ALWAYS chose to do what suited you best. And yet you refused to give me the same privilege! Again and again, you've done whatever you could to stand in the way of my desires, even as you take them for yourself."

Karl launched another blow at Solomon's midsection, and Solomon allowed himself to be run through wile simultaneously giving a bone-shattering kick to Karl's knee.

Karl cried out in pain, crumpling up on the ground; it was a relatively serious injury, even for a chiropteran. As Solomon's own wound closed, he stood over his little brother, pointing his blade at Karl's neck.

"My poor, poor Karl," Solomon said, holding Karl cornered against the ground. "I was _so_ happy when I heard you'd gotten a second chance. But look what you've done with it."

Karl stared up at him with consummate hatred.

"I'm sorry, Karl." Solomon whispered, raising his blade, and swinging it back toward Karl's neck.

"STOP!" he heard Akahana scream, forceful enough to make him pause, and glance at her.

Akahana's sword was now coated with her blood, and held precariously over the two sleeping children.

"Akahana, don't!" Solomon exclaimed.

"Let him go! Or I'll do it! I swear I will!"

Solomon returned his gaze to his pinned brother, facing a difficult dilemma.

_She won't do it. Karl can't have twisted her that much in so little time. She won't do it._

_But if there's even the slightest chance that she will…_

Naturally, Aka was trapped in a difficult decision as well, tearing up from the mixture of stress and guilt.

_Please don't make me do this. Please don't make me do this. Please don't make me do this,_ she silently pleaded, a bead of blood rolling off the tip of her sword, plummeting through the night air and striking the pink flannel blanket spread across the laps of the two sleeping girls. _Please don't make me do this…_

But even after so many tense seconds of indecision, the standoff wasn't resolved.

It was detonated.

An enormous shadow appeared above the horizon and in a fraction of a second; it swooped in, leaving what looked like a fleeting red vapor trail, and traveling faster than should have been possible, even for a chiropteran.

Akahana barely had time to squeeze out a high yelp of a scream before the blurred mass yanked her up into the air with gigantic claws and threw her through with unimaginable force, her sword flying end over end until it slid into the ground at a forty-five degree angle. The throw was so powerful that Aka didn't even seem to lose altitude as she sailed through the air, until she finally collided with the concrete base of the dam, and fell to the ground in a battered heap.

The scene sucked up every last ounce of attention of those who saw it.

"Red!" her lover bellowed in distress. He was able to scramble out of his checkmate position due to the distraction, and raced to Akahana's side.

"Red? Red?" he sobbed, laying her out in his arms, shuddering at the sight of her injury. She'd hit the wall headfirst. It looked like her skull had literally been bashed in, a whole side of her face now a malformed bloodied mass, her blood gushing out into her hair and onto his hands.

Even as they both continued to stare, Solomon grabbed Diva by the arm and backed at least fifty feet away from this dangerous UFO. It landed just beside the now unguarded children, its monstrous arms dropped to its sides, slackened wings hanging down like the sleeves of a bride's kimono.

The creature was at least a yard larger, both in height and wingspan, than any Solomon had ever seen. It's limbs bore the talons of a banshee and it's face was like that of a medieval dragon, with a short, wide-nostrilled snout, fangs so long that they protruded over the lower jaw, and with an odd backwards pointing plate at the top of its head, looking almost like a drooping tiara. The shape of its body seemed fairly similar to an average transformed Chevalier, save for an indentation along the midline of its abdomen, as well as a slightly narrower waist and wider hips, giving it an appearance similar to a harpy with batwings.

The surface of its skin looked as if it were covered with armor, and the moonlight glinted off the smooth surface of the bony plates; they were a deep scarlet color, but in some places seemed almost iridescent, like the wings of a dragonfly, shimmering rainbow-chrome lines arranged in curved swirls like the ridges of a fingerprint.

"Who is that?" Solomon stammered.

"It's -" Diva's voice went from terror to sudden understanding. She didn't know how she knew. But she knew. "It's Saya," she declared in awe.

Just as Solomon was about to assert the impossibility of this notion, he was able to recognize the distinctive presence of the _other Queen._

This transformation had never occurred before, not when driven insane by her premature awakening, not for her own life or that of any other loved one, and not for fate of the human race. It seemed that only the peril of her children was enough to transform Saya into a _true_ chiropteran.

Upon overhearing the mysterious creature referred to as Saya, Karl looked up from the mangled face of his beloved, glancing at Saya, and then back at Akahana, his expression of fear flinching into his characteristic manic smile. "Don't worry my love. Your blood will not have been spilled in vain." He whispered to the unconscious body, holding his bloodied hand up, as if to show her. "I'll use it to make sure that she never bothers us again."

He rose to his feet, facing the monster. When his eyes met the creature's blazing stare, it let out a low, grinding growl, like the sound of the earth, opening up to swallow someone down into hell.

"You're looking well, Saya!" he said, mockingly cheerful. "I suppose there's truth to the old adage, it's better to be the best-dressed, than the worst. You've made me realize that I am shockingly under-dressed for this party."

His eyes ignited into raging scarlet, clothes bursting at the seams to reveal his _true_ form.

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid my offer to die with you has long expired. I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist that you die without me," he laughed, holding up a blood-drenched claw, and transforming it into a glinting spike.

With another low cackle, the coal-skinned monster charged the red Queen, swinging his tapered pike at his opponent, only to have it blocked by an armor clad arm.

Locked by momentum, he leaned forward, smiling impudently.

"Saya, you really do look beautiful tonight. I'm starting to remember why I fell in love with you. But still, not quite as lovely as my Akahana."

The demonic Queen threw a forceful blow at him sending him skidding backwards.

He was still grinning. "Don't tell my beloved, but I had hoped that you two might have ended up fighting each other. It would have been so beautiful, my heart would have burst!" He laughed again. "But it's just as well. I think I'll enjoy feeling your guts turn to stone around the arm you once took from me."

Karl charged her once again, aiming squarely at the abdomen of the Queen. He shot toward her with all of his force and speed, allowing the blood-coated limb to bypass the arm that had previously blocked it. It looked as if victory was solidly in his grasp, and he let out the first instant of what was supposed to be a cackle of delight. But both his laugh and his attack were stopped cold by the impenetrable armor of his opponent, his blow as ineffective as punching solid rock.

He staggered backwards, clutching his now dislocated shoulder, shoving the joint back together. His smile was beginning to fade, but still present.

With all her usual grace, Saya dug the talons of one leg into the ground as she lifted the other up, swinging it high and hard enough that she could have decapitated him if not for his pathetic attempt to dodge it, but has he took that step to the right of certain death, he found the now extended claws of her left claw already waiting for him, running him through just below the shoulder. She took a step back, allowing him to fall to the ground.

He glanced up in confusion when she hesitated. It looked almost as if she were allowing him a chance to catch his breath before the next attack.

An instant later, Saya let out a low roar and unleashed a hailstorm of red spikes on her enemy.

The Phantom scuttled to his feet and immediately dodged to the side of the attack, but the aim of her barrage followed him as he ran in a 360 degree circle around the clearing.

"Uhh," Solomon grunted softly as one of the projectiles lodged in his thigh, his noise more out of surprise than pain. Without thinking, he reached down and grasped the base of the pike to pull it out, but discovered that it wasn't dislodging as easily as it should have. With one strong yank, he was able to remove it.

Solomon had been stabbed several times in his life and didn't consider it a big deal, but this was different. It felt as if the pike were shredding his flesh as he pulled it out.

He briefly examined the weapon, as the surprisingly serious wound closed. It was an ingenious feat of evolution – somehow, it had grown long, backward-facing barbs upon impact, a mechanism designed to do even more damage on the way out. The scientist in him was fascinated, and he recalled seeing something very like this, hanging proudly over Amshel's mantelpiece.

But Solomon's interest was short-lived, evaporating completely when he took notice of the wheezing coos coming from his left. He turned instantly, and to his utter horror, saw that one of Saya's stray pikes was protruding from nearly the dead-center of Diva's chest.

Diva's eyes locked on his in a look of stunned terror, her body sinking downwards.

"Oww," she whimpered, with an inflection similar to a confused question.

Solomon caught her as she fell, and tenderly laid her out on the soft turf. To Solomon, panic was even more foreign than compassion, but in that moment, it radiated from his entire being. Tears blurred his vision as he unceremoniously tore open her blood-soaked blouse.

"How's it look, doc?" Diva rasped, forced smile flanked on either side by a thin stream of blood.

For the briefest of moments, he felt some relief at the discovery that the pike had just barely missed her heart, but only an instant later, he recalled the barbs. In utter despair, he realized that to pull the spike out would literally tear up her heart.

Meanwhile, the battle between Karl and Saya raged on, but the two enemies were both briefly distracted by the van that came tearing in, and skidding to a stop at the north edge of the clearing.

There was a very conspicuous hole in the side of the vehicle; it looked as if some enormous creature had clawed its way out through the steel.

But Saya resumed her attack almost instantly.

Her intentions were now clear. Again and again, she allowed Karl to get close, but not close enough, and each time, Saya dealt him a series of shallow, but stinging gashes, designed only to maim, not kill. Karl's maniacal laughter was replaced by grunts of pain and frustration.

She was toying with him. She was toying with him just as he'd done to her, decades earlier – it was his turn to _dance_ for _her_ sadistic amusement. Saya had obviously decided that the kidnapper of her children did not deserve a swift execution. She was going to make this as painful and humiliating as possible.

Solomon's eyes met Diva's again, now mirroring his look of agonized fear. She'd read his face as clearly as a word on a page, gaze sinking away from his like her plummeting hopes.

"Oh…" she raised her eyes to his again after a short, contemplative silence. "Are you really _mine_?" she asked in an airy whisper.

"Always," he answered, voice full of tragic adoration.

"I mean," she broke a moment to weep, "Are you really my Chevalier, by blood?"

There was a palpable pang in his chest, as if he'd been the one with a spear through his heart.

"Yes," the word came out solemn and staccato.

She gave a pained smile as her shoulders shook, it was unclear whether she was laughing or sobbing. "Then, doesn't that mean your blood would give me back my memories _and _my old powers… I'd be able to heal."

"Yes," overwhelming hope flooded into his voice and expression, too happy to be ashamed that he hadn't thought of it first.

She stared up at him with pleading eyes, speaking clearly in spite of her labored breathing. "I don't want it."

Solomon felt as if his heart had just crashed into the pit of his stomach. "Diva -"

"Solomon, I don't want to turn into somebody else," her voice cracked. "Especially not some crazy bitch that everyone hates and is scared shitless of. Someone that Saya can't stand the sight of. "

"To hell with what Saya -"

"I trust her judgment. If she thinks I was scary and evil, then she was probably right. I don't want to be that person again. Dying is really scary. But becoming someone like that is way worse."

"Diva -" somehow, he found himself admiring her decision, even as he lamented it. This silly high-school girl seemed to innately possess the integrity that had waxed and waned throughout his immortal life.

But in reality, it was just like Saya's decision to die, long ago. A brave choice, made almost entirely out of fear.

"Please, Solomon. I want to stay _me_."

Solomon's will broke, as it always did when Diva asked something of him.

"If that is what you wish." He couldn't restrain himself any longer, gathering her up into his arms and holding her tightly.

A single tear slid down her cheek and she leaned away to look at him. "I guess, now would be a good time to tell you that I love you."

Nearby, the battle continued, and Saya seemed to be tiring of her sport. She was ready to end it.

She let out a whirling sphere of sonic energy at her enemy, and while he attempted to dodge it as he had done with the spikes, somehow, it followed him like a missile designed to seek only him.

But he sprinted at top speed from the sonic torpedo, gaining a little distance, and sped towards the sleeping children, leaping over them, and thus leaving them in the path of the deadly attack.

Saya's reaction had been just as he'd hoped, with speed so great that she seemed to transform into red comet, she outran the sonic burst and threw herself into the path of her own attack, allowing it to hit her squarely in the chest.

It was actually powerful enough to knock her to the ground, clutching her abdomen in agony. The skin wasn't broken, but it was by no means inconsequential, like a gunshot through a bulletproof vest.

Safe for now, the phantom spent a second or two reveling in Saya's misery.

The rest of the party was only now exiting the van, the damage to the side door made it difficult to open.

Naturally, Haji was the first one out, and charged forward to help Saya.

"_Don't worry about me. Get the children away from here," _Saya ordered telepathically.

Of course, Haji obeyed, veering away from his wife and toward the soundly sleeping children.

Karl's attention was snatched away from Saya's pain as he realized that he was about to lose his leverage. He sped forward to cut Haji off, and the two Chevaliers reached the children simultaneously.

Haji instantly scooped up the nearest child, Rose, up into his arms, pressing her to his shoulder, and with the other hand, he reached down for Lis.

But Karl refused to let both of his bargaining chips be stolen. His claw clamped down on Lis's ankle like a vice.

Haji was forced to recalculate his plan. To have pulled Lis away from the kidnapper would ripped her leg off, and that was a harm he hoped to spare her from. He wisely decided to cut his losses for the moment, and shot away from the battle into the surrounding jungle, with the intention of hiding Rose and returning for Lis.

Karl released the little girl and turned back to resume his enjoyment of Saya's pain. But the delight didn't last, his childish joy transformed into despair as she pushed herself to her feet, no doubt readying herself to finish him off.

It donned on him that the only attack capable of harming her, was one of her own, and even that didn't do more than slow her down for thirty seconds or so.

He had no chance in hell, and he was just now realizing it.

But a familiar voice seemed to sound in his head, a piece of advice given to him a century ago, one that he had put to good use during the years he'd spent overseeing the civil war in his homeland.

_When facing an enemy that you have no chance of defeating by your own power, the best thing you can do is to destroy their will to fight._

It was something Solomon had taught him.

It was an ideal strategy, he recalled well the night the Red Shield sank, how upon discovering the death of her brother, Saya simply collapsed into a shivering heap of despair, losing all taste for battle.

It didn't take much thought for him to realize the best way to destroy Saya's will to fight, in this day and age.

"It might not work but… even if I can't win, at least I can make you suffer more than anyone has ever…" he mumbled through a grin, and raising his voice to make it clearer for his opponent. "I will make sure you regret spilling my beloved's blood, for the rest of eternity," he shouted, glancing at the claw, still coated with Akahana's blood. With that, he took a large step to the side, toward the already nearby child.

Even though Saya was still in pain and slightly disoriented, she would have certainly stopped him, had she known he intended to do.

The phantom dared not hesitate, even for a fraction of a moment, directing a venomous smile at his nemesis as he dragged his bloody claw across the shoulder and chest of the sleeping child, creating a shallow, but more than adequate wound for the poison to enter her system.

Saya's physical pain became utterly inconsequential.

"Nooo!" she let out a deafening, distorted demonic howl.

What happened next happened so quickly, that even the onlookers were never quite sure what they had seen.

Saya shot toward the murderer of her child, and the two seemed to briefly disappear into a cloudy whirlwind of blurred streaks of light.

And when the two figures reappeared, Saya was clutching her wounded child to her armored breast with one monstrous claw, and Karl was stumbling backwards, there were already cracks forming at the edges of the enormous puncture wound in the center of his belly.

Saya's monstrous howl fell into a strange series of smooth, low grunts. The sound of a monster, weeping.

Karl kept his eyes fixed on Saya's even as his knees crumbled beneath him, intending to spend his last moments savoring his enemy's agony.

Saya was now crouching down, tenderly cradling the child in one monstrous wing. Lis's eyes fluttered open, awakened either by the pain of her wound, or her mother's sobs.

The little brown eyes focused on the monstrous face above them. "Mommy!" there wasn't even the slightest hint of fear, simply the sparkling delight of a child seeing their mother for the first time in a week. She threw her little arms over her mother's shoulders.

Saya bent her face bent down for a moment, looking as if she were about to kiss the wound better, when in fact, she intended to suck out the poison.

But when the scaly lips met the child's skin, Saya suddenly recoiled from what she'd touched.

The demonic weeping ceased, replaced by stunned, hopeful silence. Saya gently held the child at arm's length, carefully examining the wound with as much care as talons allowed.

It had already closed up just like any other previous boo-boo. No glittering cracks nor ashen stone, just the supple smoothness of any healthy child.

Saya began to weep again, raising in pitch and losing the growling undertone, her monstrous form melting away as if it were a shell of ice, unable to withstand the warmth of happiness.

"What?" Karl roared, now on his hands and knees. "Why isn't it working? That blood should have killed it!" he mumbled through hyperventilating panic, followed by tears of disappointment. "Why? There was blood on my hand, I know it! The blood of my beloved is poison to them! The only thing that could possibly make it lose its power is -"

His expression changed utterly, eyes loosely narrowing to a look of content amusement. "It shouldn't be possible…" He looked back at his beloved. "It shouldn't… But then again – you always are full of surprises," he murmured with a chuckle.

At that moment, Nathan and Yuki were still simply watching the scene with Saya play out.

"She's alright!" Nathan sighed happily, turning to Yuki. "But doesn't that mean that Aka is -"

"Yes, it does," Yuki answered. "But I can tell you one thing. She's not carrying a _pair_ of _Queens_." She frowned a moment, looking distracted. "Saya and the little ones are safe, but I still have the feeling that something's _wrong_. Where's Diva?"

Karl seemed to forget all about Saya, and attempted to crawl toward Akahana, but what was left of his knees broke away almost immediately. But it didn't seem to slow him down, now clawing his way across the muddy turf, the dead weight of his body rapidly diminishing as, one by one, chunks petrified flesh and muscle broke off his lower half, leaving a wake of scarlet crystals behind him. By the time he actually reached his beloved, there was nothing left below the navel.

"Red," he whispered tenderly as the fingers of his one remaining arm met her skin, his own demonic form vanishing, what was left of his body now entirely human. He managed to pull himself one scoot closer before he lost his last limb, and with enormous pain and effort, he lifted his head and laid it down on her belly.

"Everything I've ever attempted has come out ruined, so it's better that they'll never know me."

With his last vestige of strength, he moved his face toward hers, intending to take a goodbye kiss, but his body failed him a moment too soon, his shoulders hardening, leaving his face in the crescent of her neck.

Even as his lips froze in place, his whisper could still be heard, though there was no one to hear it. "You actually loved me… Thank you."

No one seemed even remotely interested in Karl's death. The bystanders were slowly emerging from the periphery, like woodland animals after a storm. And slowly, they approached Solomon and Diva.

The prodigal Chevalier was still clutching Diva to his chest, weeping silently into her hair.

"Oh no! Precious!" Yuki screamed, rushing forward.

Solomon loosened his hold on Diva, laying her on the ground with her head resting on his knee.

Diva's skin was paler than it had ever been, a dismal slate white, while the color of her eyes seemed to have darkened, blue now mostly eclipsed by dilated black, and her lips were as blue as her eyes should have been.

The rest of the party gathered around in somber panic. Yuki collapsed to her knees, sobbing.

"Diva!" Saya rushed forward, now clad in her husband's sweater, large enough on her to reach her knees. Haji lagged behind, attempting to distract the two little girls from what was almost certainly something they didn't need to see.

The small crowd made way for Dr. Julia, who crouched down beside her former patient, examining her injury. She explained to the onlookers what Solomon already knew.

"Can't we take her to the hospital?" Saya interrupted.

"The heart and surrounding tissue are too badly damaged. I don't think there's anything they could do."

"But they can do transplants now! Like with your son!" Saya insisted.

"Not when there's severe trauma to surrounding area like this," Solomon murmured despairingly, well familiar with the devices – being manufactured by a subdivision of his own company.

"But – can't we at least try?" Saya pleaded.

Julia took her hand. "There's really nothing we can do. Even if we got her to a fully equipped ER with a suitable transplant available immediately, it still wouldn't really help -"

Solomon interrupted her, speaking to Nathan with a very meaningful look. "Is there any _other_ way to save her?"

"There's only one. And I'm guessing you already know what it is," Nathan answered, far more serious than anyone had ever heard him.

"You mean, with his blood?" Julia asked. "Yes, that would restore her healing abilities, but it would also…"

Nathan ignored her. "Solomon, do you _really_ understand what that would mean?"

Solomon was amazed by Nathan's statement, not so much by what had been said, but by what hadn't been said. It would have been far more like Nathan to make concrete demands one way or another, no doubt offering mortal threats to any hint of disobedience.

But this seemed to be the one rare situation in which Nathan would defer to his little brother's decision. Solomon wondered if it was because Nathan genuinely trusted his judgment in this case, or if this was a decision too horrifying for even Nathan to take responsibility for.

One choice was terrible, and the other was likely to have even more terrible repercussions.

Saya's eyes widened. "You can't! Her memories would come back." She lunged forward and clung to Solomon's arm. "She'd probably be how she used to be – and I know she doesn't want that!"

Solomon had a fleeting childish urge to save Diva, just to disobey Saya, but it passed quickly.

Saya began to weep as she spoke. "I can't fight her again, Solomon. I don't have it in me, not now, not after all that's happened. And – even if she does stay herself – _even I_ can't imagine how hard it would be for her to face her past. To take direct responsibility for decades of atrocities, from the perspective of a good person – it's more suffering than anyone should have to go through." She sobbed a few seconds into Solomon's sleeve. "I don't want her to die either. You know I don't. But – there's no other way. She wouldn't want this, trust me."

"I think she's right," Yuki sobbed.

Solomon stared down at his palm intently.

"Solomon, you can't!" Saya demanded, tightening on his arm as if she intended to forcefully restrain him, if necessary.

Solomon lowered his hand, using it to pull Diva close one last time. He gave a soft whisper in her lifeless ear.

"Forgive me. Diva."

* * *

End of Act II: Synchronicity

* * *

Preview of Act III: The Other Self

Several lives have been turned upside down. Aka will awake to find that her lover is dead, and that somehow, she is pregnant. Solomon has had to decide whether to let Diva die as she made him promise, or to save her, forcing her to face unimaginable trauma and possible insanity. Angst is the only certainty.

Please take a moment to review! Feel free to yell at me for all the mean things I did to these poor characters!

I know I've been behind on my updates (and feel free to complain about that too, I deserve it!), but reviews let me know that busy as I am, others are indeed interested in reading more – so write more, I shall.


	18. Act 3: The Other Self

Anonymousness lives! Insanely intense graduate program mixed with stress-induced writers block as made this chapter especially long in coming. But here it is, finally!

And just to review a ... on a separate line signifies a flashback - of which there shall be many in this chapter.

* * *

Act III: The Other Self

* * *

She sat up against the stone wall, head drooped forward, hugging her knees tightly, as if that would transform into a mother's embrace.

But she wasn't crying. She'd learned the futility of that gesture long ago, when she was only an infant. Crying never got her anything, not food, not a hug, not even the fleeting human contact of a slap to the face. So she stopped doing it.

Not just a child without hope. A child who didn't even know the concept of hope.

Oddly enough, she was engaging in one of her favorite activities. Her superior hearing gave her a fairly clear picture of the birds nesting in the rafters. At first there had only been two, but then there were two more. But the new ones were different, she could tell they were much smaller, and they had high-squeaking voices, as opposed to the parent's lilting songs.

She loved those songs. One of her favorite games was to copy their music with her own singing, echoing each phrase as if it were a response to a question, as if they could understand. She even liked to insert some of those excerpts into The Song.

The Song that she'd never heard, but knew since birth. It seemed that the sensory deprivation of her infancy had activated a latent, lesser-known chiropteran power. From her mother, she'd inherited the unique genetic structure of her race, and somehow, intertwined with that, was one tiny shred of her mother's memory.

She sang that song, day in and day out, sensing in her heart, that the melody connected her with the family she'd never had. It offered her a measure of comfort, just as a lullaby is meant to. Or perhaps it was her way of wailing for her mommy.

But she didn't sing now. She felt far too weak for that. For anything.

So she passed the time by listening to the birds for hours on end, as if it were her favorite cartoon. When one of the bigger birds returned, she felt her lips tighten in a smile, even as she noticed that only one of the little birds chirped and reached for the meal. The other was silent and motionless.

But her attention was abruptly detached from the birds' saga, by something far more important.

Footsteps.

Adrenaline gave her the power to stand, and shuffle up to the bars. She felt even more excitement when she realized that it was actually two sets of footsteps. But excitement wasn't quite the right word. It was excitement mixed with fear.

After an eternity of suspense, the oak door swung open, and he appeared.

Not so much a care-taker or foster-parent as the all powerful god of her universe. Everything she had ever received, good or bad, material or otherwise, had come from him. Excitement and terror seemed almost appropriate, when meeting a god, especially one as violent and vengeful as this.

Even though he was pure evil, he was also the kindest person she knew. She had no basis for comparison.

Razor sharp, glinting-blue eyes met hers, and her heart rate increased even more.

Just behind him, another life-form entered. It looked rather different from him; softer, but weathered features, narrower shoulders and waist, and worn green cloth draped around, but not between its legs.

"All the way up here?" _it_ said, just before it noticed her. "There's a little girl in here? She doesn't look more than nine -" _it_ approached the bars.

"Do not interact with her. You are not _worthy_," he rumbled at the creature. "Now, get to it."

It reached down for the waistband of his pants, but drew her hand back. "Monsieur – not in front of the little girl."

"Mind your business; it's nothing she hasn't seen."

It was true. More than once, he'd brought women, either prostitutes or impressionable peasant girls, to the tower, and had his way with them right in front of his precious subject. Perhaps this was his merciless way of teaching his subject about mating, or perhaps it was out of sheer perversion. More likely both.

The stern command seemed to assuage _its_ hesitancy. She watched the beastly display, having no real idea of what was happening.

When it was over, _it _was allowed to stand and even right its clothes before he shoved the blue-jeweled dagger into its back. It gasped and twitched, like a fish out of water.

Her arms flailed, like an extreme nervous fidget. She crouched down at the bars, reaching for the expanding pool of blood, humming happily when she managed to catch a few drops-worth, dragging her bloody hand across the filthy floor, and then licking her palm and fingers ravenously.

He chuckled.

She smiled up at him, mimicking his laughter. As far as she knew, laughter at a scene of carnage and despair was entirely normal. Over the years, she'd also picked up on his tendency to laugh during moments of her own greatest misery, so eventually she learned to laugh at her own pain as well, like a demented substitute for the crying she'd forgotten how to do.

He caught _it_ as _it_ collapsed, holding it limply in one hand, while he unlocked the cell door with the other.

In that moment, she was one hundred percent free. As weak as he generally kept her, she certainly could have escaped, if she'd tried. But she didn't.

She knew the penalty for defiance, and it was crueler than most children could imagine. Being beaten, shot, dismembered – these were not punishments; those were just facts of daily life. But the go-to punishment…

He would leave her alone. Whenever she displeased him, he would stop visiting her, leaving her utterly alone for days, sometimes weeks, depending on the severity of the infraction. The fact that she'd was left to starve during that time was nothing more than an afterthought. The loneliness of that degree was nothing less than agonizing.

Even though she feared him, even though he hurt her – he was also all she had. The love he showed her, warped and sadistic as it was, was still better than none at all.

He shoved _it_ into her cell, and she wasted no time in beginning her meal.

_Bite neck. Suck blood. _The orders of instinct were clear, and had never been contradicted by societal norms or moral indoctrination.

She stared through the bars as she fed.

"That's my good girl," he said, laughing in obvious approval. "The savage will of nature, embodied in a single life-form. Evolution perfected."

To be worshipped and tortured by _everyone _she knew. It would have driven anyone mad, let alone someone who didn't know what it was to be sane in the first place.

Amshel continued to watch, as if witnessing a miracle. "My ultimate apex predator. My flawless goddess." His laugh faded to a contented smile. "Mine."

…

A lone girl, primly dressed in a school uniform. She stood just outside of the old-fashioned black iron gate barring the front driveway of the school.

She seemed frozen in place, staring at the bars, utterly focused and perfectly still, like a nervous deer. After a long blankly ponderous moment, she reached one hand out toward the gate, but jerked it away just before her fingers made contact, as if she'd just sensed that the bars were red-hot.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when the gate began to move, slowly sliding out of sight.

A tiny wisp of a smile crept onto her lips as she reached out again, allowing the bars to tap her fingertips as they went by.

_I'm free._

"God damn, you really are a space case, huh? Are you sure you're not actually a zombie?" a girl's voice asked from behind.

Diva's head snapped up, staring curiously at the girl, tan skinned with bleach-streaked black hair. Her eyes instantly locked on an invitingly undefended patch of skin on the side of her neck.

Her eyes remained fixed to that spot, and she moved forward in a delirious, yet predatory shuffle. "Yummy! Blood!"

She lunged forward.

But she was blocked by Max's palm on her forehead. Diva feigned persistence, butting her head against Max's hand and clawing the air cartoonishly.

Diva gave up the charade after a few seconds. "Curses! Foiled again!" she declared, snapping her fingers in mock frustration.

They both giggled and proceeded on to their class.

Neither noticed the two adults casually chatting a few dozen feet away. Both ostensibly in their early thirties, one a heavy-set blond woman, the other, a short, mahogany-skinned man, both dressed unremarkably, neither casual nor formal. They just seemed to be some particularly non-descript teachers, chatting about boring teacher stuff.

And more importantly, the girls had never noticed how the appearances of those two individuals varied throughout the day, maintaining the same clothes and basic body shape. But every so often the face, hair and complexion would change to something wildly different.

Even as the two _teachers_ discussed events from their fabricated careers, the two exchanged engaged in a more meaningful conversation, within the privacy of the telepathic connection between their minds.

"_I still wonder if it was too soon to send her back to school."_

"_At home, she'd only ruminate herself into despair. But making sure she comes here serves the dual purpose of keeping her mind occupied, and keeping her focused on the present, as much as possible."_

The woman nodded. "_I guess you're right."_

"_And look how well she's doing. A few minor breakdowns, but no sign of her returning to her old ways. If she keeps out of trouble for a little longer, I'd say we could stop the surveillance all together. At this point, likelihood of us having to intervene in a massacre seems rather small."_

"_We were right about what she needed," _she thought gloatingly, recalling the argument immediately following Diva's _awakening._

…

The late-morning sunlight through the windows created a row of bright, distorted rectangles on the long conference table. Pretty much everyone there had been up all night, either dealing with the aftermath of last night's catastrophe, or on the first flight out to Okinawa to oversee the crisis. Almost everyone had one hand glued to a coffee mug.

Naturally, Joel VI sat at the head of the table, David to one side and Joel's son to the other. Further down the line sat Saya, Yuki, Nathan and Ruka sat on one side, while Dave, Julia, Lewis and Kai sat on the other. For whatever reason, Solomon chose not to sit, leaning on the wall, arms broodingly folded.

Joel VI needed only to clear his throat to bring the meeting to order. "We all know why we're here today. We have two critical situations on our hands, and I think everyone will agree that both must be handled carefully."

A few weary nods.

"First and foremost, is Diva," he paused. "All previous research and observations suggest, now that Diva has received the blood of her Chevalier, both her memories and her non-human abilities will return. Needless to say, this presents a considerable problem." Joel paused again, voice elevating more authoritatively than usual. "As most of you know, she is still unconscious, but a decision must be reached soon. I have considered the options carefully, and discussed them with David at length. I have determined that there is only one ethical course of action available. Diva is to be held at our maximum security facility for a period of observation, for at least one month. Once Julia, David and I are satisfied that she is not a threat, she will be released and transported back to the Otonashi family's residence."

"You mean you're going to lock her up?" Saya asked uneasily.

"Like hell he will!" Yuki exclaimed indignantly. "Diva won't be locked up, not for one month, not for one minute! Diva is coming home with us TODAY! End of story."

Her husband took her hand and stroked it soothingly as he began to speak, using his most calm and persuasive tone. "Yuki and I have already formulated a well-thought-out plan. Diva will be kept under heavy sedation while she is transported back to California. She will wake up in her very own bed, in her very own room, and, under our close supervision, will continue with her life as normally as possible. My wife and I both believe that this would be the best thing for her. To put it simply, if she's treated like _human-Diva_, she'll be more likely to remain _human-Diva_, psychologically." Nathan looked at Joel intensely. "But if you lock her up, if you treat her like _monster-Diva_, she'll almost certainly revert to _monster-_Diva."

Joel VI seemed to give the idea some thought, but still looked extremely skeptical.

"I agree with them," Solomon spoke up. "I knew the old Diva better than anyone else now living. And I can tell you this: her worst _incidents_ were always after being cooped up. That's not to mention the fact that your facility and your men will not be able to contain her, if she loses control, and I am _sure_ that Saya won't help you with that," Solomon directed a guilting glance at Saya, "After all, how could she condone such treatment of her own sister? Freddie and Yuki, on the other hand, are the most powerful chiropterans on the planet, and are very familiar with Diva's current incarnation. If Diva does spin out of control, I'm sure they'll be able to keep her out of trouble. But better yet, with her loving, contemporary family, she'll have her best chance of holding on to her sanity, just as you've seen with Saya."

Joel VI shook his head. "I appreciate your opinions, and sincerely wish that Diva will be able to return to her normal life. But allowing her to move about in the general public is not a chance I am willing to take. Many lives are at risk. I must consider Diva's _whole _history, the fact that for the vast majority of her life, she killed indiscriminately. And – to put it bluntly, of all the options I've considered, this period of observation is the mildest, and was born out of a supreme effort to be a humane as possible. Many of my predecessors would have -"

Yuki shot to her feet with such force that her chair slid back and crashed into the wall behind her. She slammed both hands down against the table, rattling the cups set down on it.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" she hissed at the elder Joel. "I know that my existence makes you nervous, and you don't trust my husband any farther than you could throw him, but you have no right whatsoever, to decide my daughter's fate. _That_ right falls to me, he mother. On paper, she's still a minor and I'm her legal guardian. You have no more authority over her than you do over me." She scowled with pure hatred. "Do you really think I would leave her to _you_, when it was your ancestors that made her childhood a living hell, and then proceeded to place the burden of correcting YOUR mistake on my other daughter? How dare you even suggest that I surrender Diva into one of your prisons?"

"I am very sorry you feel that way, Ms. Otonashi, and I give you my word that Diva will be given as many comforts as are feasible."

"But not her freedom!" Yuki exclaimed.

"Ms. Otonatshi, Please remember that my chief responsibility is to keep the world safe from Diva. I cannot not break my oath, and I cannot risk the very real possibility of another rampage. Even if there is only a small chance that Diva will harm a human -"

"You self righteous worm!" she exclaimed contemptuously. "You really are no better than your forefathers!" She slammed her hands down on the table again. "Now listen here. I am taking my daughter home with me, and God help you if you try to stop me."

The Red Shield patriarch's fingers curled into a fist, and he shifted in his seat, as if he wanted to stand too. But still, his voice maintained most of his usual pleasant calm. "With all due respect, Ms. Otonashi, if I were one to cave to chiropteran threats, I would neither be at the head of this table or in this wheelchair."

Yuki laughed condescendingly. "You really have _no _idea who you're dealing with, do you?" her voice deepened, taking on a subtle hint of demonic distortion. "I am no third-rate Chevalier. I am a full-blooded chiropteran Queen, and unlike my unfortunate descendants, I was taught to use my abilities to the fullest. Super human strength and speed, rudimentary telekinesis, blood-spikes, sonic blasts – that is the stuff of childhood games, as far as I'm concerned. You have no idea what my true capabilities are."

The windows began to rattle, and ripples appeared in the coffee. Intimidating as the display was, there was something about it that was reminiscent of a child having a tantrum, a princess used to getting her way.

"And mark my words, if you continue to make these disgusting demands, I won't think twice about using every ounce of my power against you."

"Mom, stop!" Saya intervened, grasping Yuki's arm. "This isn't helping."

Yuki remained completely rigid, panting through gritted teeth.

"C'mon, mom," Saya pleaded. "Let's just step outside and cool off."

To everyone's surprise, the ancient queen actually complied, and allowed herself to be led away from the table.

Just before passing through the door, she stopped, turning back to Joel.

"I _had_ hoped it wouldn't come to this," she said, tone disturbingly pleasant.

Once the mother and daughter had left the room, Saya began to speak. 'Mom, it'll be okay. We'll think of something -"

Saya stopped when she realized that her mother was clearly not paying any attention to her. Yuki stood fixed to the spot; eyes clenched shut, lips moving without words.

A moment later, Saya could hear that Joel had begun to speak.

"Upon further consideration, I believe that it would actually be most ideal if Diva goes with the Otonashi family."

Saya's jaw dropped when she realized that the words Joel was speaking were exactly parallel to the ones that Yuki was mouthing, only with a slight delay, like an echo.

"… a good point, in that our facility is probably not equipped to handle any potential crisis that should arise, and more importantly, if it is less likely that Diva will regress to her former state under the care of her parents, then I believe that the proper course of action would be for her to return their care."

Yuki sighed after the last word, directing a smug look at her stunned daughter.

"What?" she tittered innocently. "I _warned_ him. And besides, the fact that it worked so easily means that he had his doubts about his decision, anyway. And a relatively clever human like that might actually figure out what happened to him. But then again, he probably won't. For the average human, it's a relatively common experience to say something, and then think _god, why did I say that?_"

Saya was still speechless.

"Remind me to teach you one of these days, hmm? It's actually harder than it looks. I used to be able to do it without moving my lips, but I guess I've gotten a little rusty." She laughed a little. "Oh, and don't tell anyone about this; even daddy doesn't know about that little trick. Trust me; people tend get uncomfortable around someone who can telepathically influence their actions."

…

Yuki's mind shifted to something else. _"Hey, I was just thinking, you got home so late last night that I didn't have a chance to ask you how your _errand _went."_

"_Flawlessly. It really was the perfect way to do it."_

"_Bastard won't be changing his mind now."_ Yuki smiled at her husband. "You are a good knight."

* * *

Ruka thought of how her sister's face seemed preternaturally peaceful, that unrousable comatose sleep, as if she'd just returned home from a 36 hour shift, back when they were residents. Only in this case, it actually was a coma, induced from a traumatic head injury. The wound was definitely serious, even for a chiropteran, but Ruka knew she would survive.

_She has to._

Akahana looked much better now. Her face had regained its proper shape; the only physical sign left was the strange crusted scab that covered nearly half of Akahana's face, red and slightly transparent, like a natural bandage made of her own miraculous blood.

Ruka's heart leapt when she saw the twitching flinch trickle over Akahana's features. Even that slight movement seemed to crack the brittle crystalline scab, revealing normal, healthy tissue. One of Aka's hands rose to her own cheek, she grimaced in confusion as she brushed off the last of the brittle scarlet substance.

Her face truly was its ordinary shape, in that it had reverted to its sixteen-year-old form.

The eyes of the two sisters met.

"Where's Jonah?" Aka croaked.

Ruka's first instinct was to correct her on the name, blurt out _you mean, Karl Fei Ong?,_ but she decided not to go there.

Aka looked over that face that she literally knew as well as her own. The look of pained sympathy described Jonah's fate as well as any words could have.

Akahana's lower lip began to quiver, nodding to indicate that she understood. Her voice turned vindictive. "Who did it?"

"Saya," Ruka answered.

Akahana sat up in bed, swinging her feet toward the floor, giving every indication that she intended to exact her revenge without a moment's delay, hospital gown and all.

Ruka immediately set about restraining her, but not physically. "He stabbed Lis with your blood," she stated, vehement but not accusatory.

Aka froze in place, half way to a standing position. "That's a lie!" she spat, her look of shock and horror belying her words of disbelief.

"Half a dozen people saw it happen." Ruka's tone was still calm; the statement was uttered apologetically if anything.

Aka's rear sank back toward the bed, quick breaths of panic accompanying tears of guilt. "Oh god – then Lis is – I never meant for - what have I -." Her words trailed off into sobs.

"Lis is alright," Ruka said, oddly flat for such a soothing statement.

Her sister looked up questioningly. "But you just said - "

Ruka sighed deeply before speaking. "I wasn't gonna tell you this yet, give you a little time to digest the other stuff first but – your blood didn't hurt Lis because you're pregnant."

"That's not – it can't be, " Aka countered listlessly.

Only a few days ago, Ruka had been of the same opinion, and thought back as she explained some of Yuki and Julia's revelations.

…

Joel looked suddenly dizzy as Saya and Yuki reentered the room, but he managed to continue. "And then there's our other problem – Akahana Miyagusuku."

"Pfft," Yuki scoffed. "Problem? Oh yes, I forgot that you people would prefer that our kind didn't breed."

"That is not what I -" Joel stopped, apparently realizing the fruitlessness of argument, and then ceased to pay any attention to Yuki. "Julia, can you tell us your findings?"

Julia nodded. "Preliminary tests do indicate that Aka is approximately two weeks pregnant, consistent with the incident last night, where her blood appeared to be harmless to Saya's daughter."

"She's not pregnant! That's like, three different kinds of impossible!" Ruka burst out.

"Really? Enlighten us," Nathan commanded smugly.

"Well, first of all, a chiropteran female can only become pregnant by her sister's Chevalier. I haven't even changed Dave yet, so that couldn't have happened."

"Actually, that's not true," Yuki began to explain. "A Queen can actually become pregnant by any Chevalier _except _her own. However, in the old days, such unions were strictly taboo, sort of the equivalent of incest, only backwards, I suppose – I dunno. But like incest, just because it grosses the vast majority of people out, doesn't mean that it never happens. " She paused thoughtfully. "In the case of chiropteran Queens, such unions were said to result in a _single birth_, and the offspring would not only be of inferior powers, but also be entirely sterile. I can't say for sure, I never met one. In general, they were shunned out of our society." She snorted. "There were all sorts of other whispers about them, silly messianic superstitions and absurd tales about them bursting into flames when they come in contact with sunlight."

A small gasp came from Julia.

"What? I know it sounds silly, it's just what I heard," Yuki added.

"It's not silly," David stated. "When you get a chance, go look up the word "Schiff" in The Diary."

"The Schiff were created in a laboratory though, I wonder if sensitivity to sunlight is a side effect for _other_ combinations of chiropteran DNA," Julia murmured in fascination.

"It is true, actually," Nathan added. "I met one before, one of the longest surviving chiropterans other than myself. They tended to isolate themselves due to the sunlight handicap, and humans don't hunt down things they don't know are there. But she's been dead for quite some time."

Yuki's attention returned to Ruka. "What was reason number two?"

"Well, there's also the fact that we're only thirty-eight. Technically, we shouldn't reach real sexual maturity for another ten years."

"True," Julia answered. "But we have to keep in mind that there's always variation between individuals. For example, the average age of menarche in human females is thirteen, but it's not considered medically abnormal to begin as young as nine. And if you consider that four year difference in terms of a percentage of a chiropteran's life-span, which is virtually infinite, it makes perfect sense that chiropteran females would have a wide range of ages at which they'd reach sexual maturity."

"And besides," Yuki added, "the fact that she didn't beat him off with a stick suggests that the instinct against premature mating was no longer present in Aka. What about you dear? I bet you've been a little extra horny lately? Eh Dave?"

A deep blush raced across Ruka's face.

With a satisfied grin, Yuki shifted the subject, yet again. "What was the third reason, dear?"

Ruka held out one hand, all fingers fisted, save her pinky. Her voice wavered between sadness and anger when she spoke. "She _promised_."

"Um," Julia made an uncharacteristic noise of unsureness. "I wasn't going to say anything but – when I was examining Aka, I found _this_ in her pocket."

Julia pulled out tightly folded piece of white printer paper, and slowly unfurled it, holding it out for the group to see.

"Is that a marriage license?" the younger Joel stammered incredulously.

Judging by the look on his face, it seemed that the younger Joel had inherited his father's knack for feigning calm in a crisis. But anyone could have guessed what the poor man must have been feeling, discovering that his estranged girlfriend had married someone else – and none other than the Chevalier who had permanently crippled his father, decades ago.

"It certainly looks like one. It's dated last week."

"And this has _what_ to do with anything?" Ruka snapped.

"A lot actually," Kai sighed. "It looks like she made a new promise."

…

"… I ran some tests. It's true."

Aka slumped, seeming to keel over to the side. She curled up on the surface of the bed, eyes wide with shock, and hands covering her ears, as if she couldn't bear to hear anymore.

A dead husband and an unexpected pregnancy, all broken to her in just under a minute.

Ruka's lips pressed together, smothering a sympathetic sob.

* * *

How was it possible? How could anyone remember something that horrific, and simply go one with their lives? If her past had made her insane, how could she regain her past and not her insanity?

Even Diva wasn't quite sure.

She knew her parents had a lot to do with it. The support system she'd always lacked was now a reality.

During the past two weeks, her parents had been flawlessly supportive in the most powerful way possible. They seemed to have absolute faith in her. As if the possibility of her returning to her old ways was so remote that it was barely worth talking about.

Even on that first morning.

…

She awoke to the sensation of someone stroking her cheek, but beyond that, she had no idea what was going on.

Diva rubbed her eyes, putting one hand to her aching head. Not a physical injury, it just felt as if her skull was about to burst from the wild, swirling quagmire of memories trying to arrange themselves in some sort of logical way. Her memories were back, but calling up any one thought seemed almost impossible. Unlike her sister, Diva had always had a tendency to regain her memories quickly and suddenly. But it wasn't as if she'd been handed a detailed book of her complete past, it was as if the pages were torn out, thrown up in the air, and allowed to settle in a random haphazard circle at her feet.

"Precious, c'mon. Time to get up."

Diva slowly sat up, as disoriented as if she'd awoken upside down. Her eyes widened to a look of nervous shock, moving around the room, searching for something that made sense.

She focused on Yuki, like a baby bird imprinting on the first thing it saw.

"M-mommy?" she mumbled, as if it were her first word.

"Yes dear, mommy," her mother said with a patient smile. "C'mon now. Time for school."

"School?" she murmured, cluelessly inquisitive, as if to say:_ school? What is - school?_

"Yes precious, school. It's almost 7:30. We're already running a little late, so daddy made you a breakfast-pocket to bring with you."

She found herself dressed and groomed to go before she really knew what was going on.

"Here you go, precious," her dad said, cheerfully handing her a bundle of breakfast.

"Thank you, Nathan," she said, without thinking.

She was led off to the car, like a blind child.

The scenery raced by the window, on the way to school. Staring at the back of her parent's heads, she was just beginning to make sense of it all.

_I died. And then I was alive again. And now I remember…_

Intensely disturbing images trickled through her thoughts, and then down her cheek in the form of a tear.

She furrowed her brows determinedly, wiping the tear away with her sleeve, trying to focus on the present.

"Were Saya's babies okay?" she asked quietly.

"Yes precious. They're both fine, back in Okinawa with their mama."

Diva nodded. "What about – " she wasn't sure what to call her.

My_ baby. _

"That girl – you know -"

Her dad seemed to gather who she meant. "Akahana was injured pretty badly, but she's alright. Her sister, Ruka, is taking care of her. They're actually both doctors, you know."

Diva felt very pleasant, but entirely foreign type of pride. She envisioned herself introducing them to some important person at some fancy party. _My daughters – are _both_ doctors._

Her parents exchanged glances. "And you have a right to know but – it seems that Akahana is pregnant – with Karl's child."

_That means that I'm – going to be a – grandma?_

_A grandma…_

That idea seemed strangely fitting, along with all the other far-fetched facts swirling in her head.

"He's dead isn't he?" Diva asked flatly, not so much intuition as basic logic.

"Yes."

She didn't feel any particular grief for Karl, the only thing that troubled her was the affect it would have on her child.

_Poor Akahana – my poor baby…_

As the car drew closer, Diva noticed the crowds of teenagers rushing in the direction of the school.

The memory shot through her with a shocking jolt.

Carnage at the Zoo. The sound of their screams and her laughter. The sensation of running for the first time in her life. The scent of flames and terror. The taste of blood and freedom.

A few more minutes of silence.

Diva forced the words out, like a thorn from her skin. "Are you sure that – that's – safe? What if I -"

"Precious, we're sure," her dad said. "Just because you've remembered your past doesn't mean that you have to forget what you've learned over the past few years. You did the things you did because you didn't know any better, because you were raised by a man who was himself, pure evil. But since then, you've _learned._ You know how to control your impulses and you know how to understand humans as well as if you were one of them."

"We understand that this is a very difficult situation, precious," her mother added. "Getting your memories back is never easy, but just because you're past life has returned, doesn't mean that your current life stops. You'll carry on. And fortunately, the women in this family are experts at that."

…

Her parent's faith in her was both an encouragement and a challenge. Like when someone says _I know you can do it._

But even so, how had she not been shattered by the guilt of who-knows-how-many murders?

Perhaps it had something to do with having spent the past few years as a spoiled American teenager, in a society that encouraged egotism, and often excused the behavior of people with difficult upbringings. That was somewhat in contrast to her sister, who'd lived in Victorian Era Europe and later, Japan – both societies that emphasized personal honor and self-sacrifice.

Or perhaps Diva had retained just enough of her former remorselessness to make the guilt bearable. That wasn't to say that she didn't feel guilty, just that she was not quite guilty enough to go insane.

And she often found herself thinking back to something she'd heard Solomon say to Saya.

… _victims of unfortunate accidents._

She really wanted to believe that.

Diva and Max continued on their way to class.

As far as her schoolmates were concerned, during the past two weeks, it had been observed that Diva's movements seemed slowed, walking almost as if trudging through waist-deep muck, head turning lazily toward anything of interest, like a tired cat. A classic sign of depression, compounded by Diva's initial over-compensation for her newly recovered super-human speed.

But that was in stark contrast to her startle response. All too often she'd be yanked into a moment of sheer terror by the strangest, seemingly benign things, or sometimes, nothing at all, as far as the humans could perceive. And she did perceive things that they didn't, remarkable ears catching things, like the clank of test tubes in the chemistry class, next door.

However, regaining her superhuman senses had been therapeutic, in some sense – in that it was distracting. Every now and then, she shook off dark thoughts by focusing on the minutiae of the moment, playing little games inspired by her parents recent reiterations of dharma school lessons on mindfulness. Little games like _what did they have for breakfast?_ and_ who farted?_

But the general change in her manner did not go unnoticed. Even on her first day back, she was bombarded with well meaning _what's wrong_s, usually resulting in a teary-eyed retreat to the bathroom.

Only her two best friends, Max and Wes had any idea. Wes seemed to have a general inkling of what was going on, something related to Diva's _curious _family background. But he seemed afraid to bring it up, though not because the idea of her demonic nature made him nervous. It was just a natural male tendency to avoid discussing emotional matters.

But Max seemed to know what had happened, with the inherent intuition of a best friend.

And for that reason, Max decided to rectify the situation concerning the obnoxious questions, about what was bothering Diva. She took it upon herself to drop vague, fabricated hints to a few key school busybodies, capitalizing on already circulating rumors of Diva being spotted over winter break with a gorgeous older man. Max simply mentioned that Diva had indeed been romantically involved with him, but that the relationship had ended on a bad note, resulting in Diva's seeming so down. Max made sure to emphasize that the hurt was still so fresh that it would be best not to ask her about it.

It worked marvelously; no one bothered Diva after that, at least not directly. It actually worked a little too well. Naturally the rumors, uncontradicted by their source, took on a life of their own, gaining creative details to Diva's heartache; that she was simply used for sex and discarded; that her lover already had a wife or girlfriend; that her parents scared him off with accusations of statutory rape, or suppositions that a pregnancy had been terminated… any of which could have understandably made a teenage girl act strangely.

But surprisingly, whenever the whispering inevitably got back to Diva, it simply amused her, in some strange morbid way.

But they also brought her mind to one of the many things she was trying not to think about, and she would find herself thinking the phrase, that she'd so often said, in the distant past.

_I want my Solomon._

The two girls headed toward their math class, as they would on any normal Monday.

Max stopped at a drinking fountain, and Diva dutifully paused to wait for her.

But as she stood there, her ears caught something extremely disturbing, startling and scary as a final blood-curdling scream during a murder.

Footsteps. Lone footsteps, echoing through the halls of the school.

Diva froze in place where she stood, mind flooded with the sensation of iron shackles on her wrists, scalpels dragging across her skin, and promises of unthinkable pain, whispered in her ear as sweetly as a lover's vow.

They weren't like ordinary memories, the kind she'd had, back when she was _normal._ Not neat little bubbles of time, floating unobtrusively across her thoughts. _These _memories seemed to take over her entire world, at least for the moment. It was as if it was happening all over again, as real as the ground under her feet.

"Diva? Are you okay?" Max whispered.

Without realizing it, Diva dropped to a crouching position, against the wall.

"Diva, jeez, what's gotten into you?"

Diva looked up at her with tears flickering in her eyes.

Max sighed. "Okay, okay, c'mon. I'll ditch with you, just this once. We can walk over to the burrito joint across the street. It's after the breakfast rush so it'll be totally dead. You can cry as much as you want over a nice plate of asada. But you'll have to pay, allowance day isn't until tomorrow for me."

Diva stared at her curiously. For a fleeting moment, she seemed completely unable to comprehend this act of kindness. But it was only a few seconds before she responded with a tight hug.

"_Do you think she's okay?" _thought one of the two teachers, still watching her from afar.

"_I think so, Max is taking care of her."_

"Shit," the short man muttered, pulling out his phone, and walking briskly over to a less populated hallway. "Yes?" he answered, in the voice he'd adopted as Freddie Gardener.

"How is she?"

It was a familiar, angora soft male voice.

"Why don't you call her yourself? You have her number," he replied curtly.

"How is she?"

The question was repeated with an added note of anxiety.

Nathan sighed. "She's doing better than I'd ever dared hope, under such circumstances."

"No incidents?"

"Not one. As a matter of fact, she was refusing to drink blood at all, last week. Yuki and I had to confiscate her cell phone until she _ate _something. Poor dear cracked in under two hours."

Solomon chuckled. "Then she _is _still herself."

"I wouldn't go that far. She's definitely changed, just not back into the Diva of old. If anything she's even less like her _old self_ than she was three weeks ago."

Silence.

"Solomon, what are your intentions toward my daughter?"

"She's not your daughter," Solomon snorted.

"Say that again, and see what happens," Nathan dared him ominously.

Solomon sighed. "I don't – I don't know."

"Bullshit," Nathan snapped. "You love her, and you know it. You're just scared shitless of seeing her, after what you did."

"How can I ever face her?" Solomon asked, more rhetorically than anything else.

"Groveling might be a good place to start," Nathan spat. "You've been alive for a century and a half, but never once have you had to take responsibility something shitty you did. But for the first time in your life, you'll have to look into the face of someone you hurt." Nathan paused, tone shifting to something between pity and epiphany. "And that terrifies you."

Solomon was silent, too emotionally drained to engage in one of Nathan's famous verbal sparring matches.

"I only ask – no – demand one thing of you," Nathan said sternly. "Leave her flat, elope with her or anything in between – as long as you make your choice soon. Don't you dare leave her hanging. You know what it's like to cling to hope and then be cut down, and I won't let you do that to her."

Nathan hung up. "_Pathetic man."_

"_I hear that." _Yuki responded.

* * *

It was several hours before Aka was willing to communicate at all. Even when Ruka explained what she'd been able to determine over two weeks of analyzing the recent cascade of disasters, Aka said nothing.

Aka's only response was violent sobbing, tense with fury. At least initially, the idea that it had all been a series of misunderstandings was even more enraging than if it had been the fault of one individual or event. The idea that there was no one to pin the blame on. Except herself.

Aka had eventually sobbed herself into a fitful sleep and again, Ruka barely left her side for those few hours, passing the time alternating between reading a medical journal and worrying herself sick.

"I'm sorry," Aka eventually mumbled.

Ruka looked up from her book. "Why say that to _me?_"

"Because I broke our promise," her tone was both regretful and listless.

"No you're not." Ruka smiled comfortingly. "Besides, don't worry about it. It's not like you're the first person who ever had sex even though they knew they shouldn't."

Aka felt both annoyed and reassured by that trivialization of her extraordinary circumstances. Ruka stood and paced across the room, sitting beside her sister on the bed.

"I guess now I'm more pissed that I wasn't invited to your wedding."

Aka shook her head. "Trust me; you didn't miss anything, other than signing some papers. It was kind of an impulsive-last minute thing. I -" She paused, a tear sliding down her face as her eyes locked on the floor. "I was so mad at everybody. I was mad at myself and Jonah, but I couldn't admit it, but – I thought – I thought it didn't matter. I thought _who cares if I have to sleep for three decades. Jonah will be waiting for me, and no one else cares about me anyway._" She looked up at Ruka. "I thought you were with them, that you'd… I was _so_ angry and for some reason that made me think that I might as well -"

Ruka cut her off. "I'm willing to forgive you on one condition."

"Hmm?"

"Tell me one thing… How was _it_?" Ruka asked with a mischievous smile that left no doubt as to her meaning.

It seemed like an extremely insensitive thing to ask a new widow, but in a way, it was the best thing that she could have possibly said. That crass question represented a return to normalcy between these two sisters who told each other _everything._

It was true, he had initiated. The pressure was palpable though unintentional, worshipping her body with his hands, his lips, his tongue. She certainly could have stopped him, if she'd wanted too.

But she didn't. Passionate love for him mixed with self-destructive anger at the rest of the world made resistance nearly impossible.

Aka smiled, a teary film forming over her eyes.

In some way, she conceptualized that critical moment of searing pain as an act of self mutilation. She'd lost control of her life, everything except her own body – something she had the power to give or deny. At the same time, pain promised to take her focus off everything that was wrong. But instead of sliding a razor across her wrist, she was allowing – no, encouraging her lover, already known to have issues with self-control, into an act that promised to give her three decades of peace. As if those years would give her a chance to gather her thoughts.

But it was also the most life-affirming feeling she'd ever known, the pinnacle of consoling human contact and emotional connection. Her lover's blazing passion was literally contagious, her heart swelling with the high-flown declarations of love and devotion that bloomed seamlessly between feral moans. She was utterly swept up in the current of her lover's careless pleasure.

Aka smiled, eyes closing to expel a new pair of tears. "It was – intense," she managed to choke out.

Ruka seemed mercifully satisfied with the vague answer.

* * *

Solomon was redressing after his second shower of the day. Sweating never sat well with him, and sweating was inevitable in this climate.

And situation.

He'd decided to remain in Okinawa for the moment, telling himself that it was to help take care of Rose and Lis. In reality, it was because he could barely help putting off what he knew had to be done. After all that had happened, there was no other way.

Nathan was right. He was afraid.

_What happens how?_

Over and over, he ran through that pivotal moment in his mind.

…

"Forgive me, Diva," he whispered in her lifeless ear, weeping into her hair.

The entire party, even Saya, looked at him with the utmost sympathy. No one moved to stop him when he turned Diva's limp face toward him, pressing an impassioned kiss to her lips, no doubt a final goodbye.

None of them had any idea that he'd bit a deep puncture in his tongue. By the time anyone realized what he was doing, it was too late to stop him.

"You bastard!" Saya shrieked at him as he lay her sister on the ground. "Why did you do that? Why?" she limply beat her fists against his chest, sobbing. "I can't kill her again! I can't!"

Yuki appeared between them, embracing Saya firmly. "Deep breath, Precious, deep breath. It'll be alright. She's had a very strong upbringing over these past few years; it's possible that she will be able to hold onto who she is now. Don't get ahead of yourself. If we handle the situation carefully, things will be alright."

Solomon looked over at Nathan. "_What are her chances of holding onto herself?"_

Nathan sighed warily. _"I have no idea. In all of history, nothing like this has ever happened before. We may be getting worried over nothing, or the situation may be hopeless no matter what we do."_

That statement hit Solomon's mind like a bitter pill down his throat.

_And either way, it's _my _ fault._

…

_My fault…_

He checked his phone as he finished dressing.

_A text from Ruka?_

He opened the message.

"_Aka wants to talk to you. Come over as soon as you get a chance."_

He flinched. He knew that was coming, to a lesser extent, it was one of the things he was avoiding.

_Could it be a trap?_

Considering how attached she'd been to Karl, and how much he must have influenced her, it wouldn't have surprised him one bit.

_But I doubt Ruka would condone that._

* * *

Rose and Lis sat on the floor, playing with blocks, apparently not noticing that their mother was watching them like a hawk.

A dozen times since the kidnapping, Saya had promised herself that she'd never let them out of her sight. And a dozen times, Haji had talked some sense into her.

Saya was afraid to ask the question she was about to, but she had to know.

"That man that was with Akabachan, did he – what did he do to you?"

The two little girls just looked at her inquisitively. "We got ice cream."

"Did he hurt you?" Saya finally asked.

Fortunately, the two girls were not confused by the leading question.

"Huh-uh," Lis answered carelessly.

Saya let out a subtle sigh of relief. She'd thought of The Phantom as being capable of _any_ atrocity, and was terrified of what trauma her daughters might have been through.

But after a few questions sprinkled about the past two weeks, Saya had determined that the girls had no idea that they'd been kidnapped at all.

_Akahana must have protected them, _she assumed.

In the background, she overheard her husband answering the phone.

"… Yes… Yes… I am very sorry to hear that… I understand… I'll tell her… Goodbye."

Haji turned to Saya, already waiting for whatever he had to tell her.

"Joel's operation - there were complications. He did not survive."

Saya's shoulders sagged, but she felt no tears building. She'd lost Joels before, and much more disturbing ways than this. And after the emotional rollercoaster of the past few weeks, it didn't seem that shocking or tragic. _He lived a full life and saw his life's work more or less completed._

_The _chiropteran threat _has been eliminated…_

_I guess…_

Over the last few weeks, Saya had received regular updates with regards to her sister, and they'd all been favorable. But even so, Saya had no idea how to feel about Diva now. She felt a little guilty that she'd advocated for letting her die, but at the same time, she felt some lingering righteousness about it. A sense of mercy. For brief moments, she found herself wishing that she could have spared her little sister the pain she must be feeling now. And then a moment later she would feel a flush of hot vindictiveness, rejoicing that Diva would finally taste the shame she should have rightfully felt decades ago.

Thinking of Diva made her head spin, much as it used to when her own memories returned.

* * *

The two girls sat in a booth, picking at their favorite greasy-spoon Mexican food.

Diva's tone was flat and calm as she told the story, even as her voice crackled with repressed sobs.

Mascara-tinted tears rolled down from Max's eyes.

"Oh god, Diva – that's – that's the saddest thing that I've ever – how could _anyone _do that to _anyone_?" Max whimpered.

"Sometimes, it's easy to pretend that it never happened. Like it was a bad dream." Diva spoke quietly. "That's a good way to describe it, actually. Like, in a dream, you do things that don't make sense, but they seem totally normal when you're in the dream. Sometimes you can _feel_ that something's off, but you can never quite grasp hold of the logic. And then, when you wake up, you can't understand what you were thinking. Why you reacted to all those crazy situations the way you did."

She closed her eyes for a moment, as if literally facing her past in her mind. "But even if it really happened… is the past that much more real than a dream? My mom says that the best thing to do is just keep moving, like she and Saya did when they remembered. And that's what I'm trying to do. Keep moving. Keep living. Even if I don't deserve to."

"Don't deserve to?"

Diva's eyes opened. "I killed people, Max. A lot of people." She finally started crying. "I didn't mean to – I didn't want to hurt people. I didn't know what a person was. I knew was humans were – but not people. I didn't see any difference between killing someone and breaking a doll. It wasn't that I wanted to kill people, it was that I didn't know how to _not_ kill people."

Max squirmed in her chair uneasily. "But… you know that now, right? How to _not _kill people…"

"Yes!" Diva shouted. "Of course I know that! It's like my parents told me, remembering when you were ignorant doesn't make you forget what you've learned!"

Saying those words, using that vehement, guilt ridden, defensive tone – she realized that in that moment, she sounded exactly like Saya. Whatever subtle difference existed between their respective voices, that inflection seemed to erase it.

Her head drooped. "But I still killed people. And _that's_ why Saya was so iffy about seeing me. I killed the guy she thought of as a father, and a boy she thought of as a brother."

Riku's face appeared in her mind. She frowned, as if her facial muscles were weighted down by emotional confusion.

_Now him, I _really _didn't mean to kill. I was actually planning to _keep_ him. Such a sweet boy._

And then a little blush spread across her face, remembering the events just before his genuinely accidental death, how in the blink of an eye, his helpless terror turned into wild, mindless lust that seemed entirely out of place on a boy so young. How his eyes became that blank, soulless blue glow she used to see in the mirror, and his hands suddenly went from pushing her away, to pulling her closer in the most primal and possessive of ways.

_So, I'm not a virgin after all… but also not a slut. That's a bright side, I guess._

The thought of Riku brought her to an entirely different, yet related thought.

She smiled, deciding to force herself to have some fun with this.

"But Max, what would you say if I told you I was pregnant?"

Max's eyes turned to dinner plates, ostensibly more scandalized than she had been at the admission of murder. "Diva, holy shit -"

Diva cut her off. "And what would you say if I told you that my DAUGHTER is pregnant?"

Shock turned into confusion. "Huh?"

Diva gave a sober giggle. "I have two, thirty-eight-year-old daughters. And one of them is pregnant." She recalled her thought from a few weeks ago, and put a gloating emphasis on the prefixes. "And their names are Dr. Akahana Miyagusuku and Dr. Ruka Miyagusuku. That's right. _Both_ doctors."

But even as she beamed with pride, inwardly she was still consumed by shame, one dark thought leading to another.

_I don't deserve such perfect daughters, and they certainly deserved a better mother. It's a good thing Saya killed me when she did. I would have messed up their lives too…_

_I've caused everyone so much pain._

Her fingernails dug into her palm.

_I can't take it anymore. _

* * *

Hope you all enjoyed, and again, have faith – it will get finished. I promise!

And don't forget to review!


	19. Even

Finally got this one done! Lots of confrontations and reunions in this chapter, so expect lots of crying, hugging and half-hearted apologies!

* * *

Solomon knew this had the potential to be a complete disaster. Aka wanted to see him, and considering what she'd just been through, and whose influence she'd been under, there was very little he would put past her, with sureness.

He was half convinced that she'd try to kill him. He would have been entirely convinced if it wasn't for Ruka's involvement.

He stepped into the apartment's living room, finding Akahana with her back to him, staring out the window.

She began without a greeting, and without turning. "I think I finally understand what happened, all those weeks ago."

He tensed, bracing himself for attack. But when she turned to face him, though she was still looking at the floor, he realized that no attack would come, her expression showing only sadness.

"When I called you, pretending to be Saya, you were lying, when you said you were going to kill him. You were lying _because_ you thought I was Saya. You actually _were _trying to protect him." She teared up as her lips spread in a faint smile, but still didn't look him in the eye. "You gave him a chance, when no one else would. And I will never forget that."

She approached him until they stood toe to toe, and still avoiding eye contact, she leaned forward and inhaled deeply, briefly savoring the subtle base-notes of his scent, so similar to the man she'd lost.

She turned around again, waving him off. "That's all I wanted to say. You can go now."

Solomon took the hint, imagining that Aka probably didn't want to discuss the matter further.

Not more than a few minutes after leaving, Solomon's phone rang out from his pocket.

"Hello?"

"Where's Diva?" the voice demanded, more panicked than angry.

"Nathan? What do you mean -"

"Just answer the damn question! Is Diva with you, or not?"

"No, if she's not with you, then I have no idea where she is." Solomon answered truthfully, confusion rapidly transforming into fear. The past few weeks had shown all too well, that if Nathan was concerned, it was nothing to be taken lightly.

"Shit," Nathan muttered.

"What's going on?"

Nathan sighed. "What do you think? Diva's gone missing."

"Since when?"

"Sometime last night. When I left my office this morning, she was gone. In a sound-proofed room with headphones on, even _I_ didn't hear her leave."

Solomon felt the crush of sudden terror. "Do you think she could have – could she be planning to -" he had a hard time even bringing himself to say it. "Suicide?"

"I doubt it, seeing as her suitcase and Yuki's credit card are also missing. Diva may have been born from a mummy, but she's not an ancient Egyptian."

The sharp weight of intense fear slid off Solomon's shoulders, leaving behind a residue of befuddled anxiety.

"And you thought she was with me?" Solomon asked.

"Well, you do have a history of kidnapping girls you like. I thought that by now, you might have grown some class, and talked her into _coming to you_, like a normal cad."

"Fair enough," Solomon conceded. "Do you think the Red Shield could have taken her?"

"Are you kidding? Even when they're not in disarray from losing their leader, they've never had the sort of finesse to steal her out from under our noses."

Solomon thought for a moment. "Did you check for new charges on the credit card?"

"Clever lad, and yes, I have. Two, a cab company, and an airline, but it doesn't say what. Yuki's on the phone with the bank, trying to talk them into giving her more information." Nathan sighed again. "But still, considering that she's not with you, I think it's fairly obvious who she's gone to see."

* * *

As far as Diva was concerned, Okinawa was the center of the universe. The island that contained her daughters she'd never really met, and the sister who held the key to the lock that bound her to her guilt. Every loose end, every unanswered question – she knew without a doubt, that it was all here. Except for one – she wasn't sure where he was.

_And _he'll_ have to come to _me.

For the moment, she was exceedingly proud of herself; she'd never felt so independent. So unlike the person she'd once been, too helpless to do anything without a Chevalier at her side. But now she'd traveled to the other side of the world with no help from anyone, except a stolen credit card.

Along with that pride, was the odd feeling of knowing that she probably should be terrified, and not being scared at all. A teenage girl, traveling over-seas, by herself, using a stolen credit card - but there was no worst-case scenario that frightened her. _What could possibly happen that would be worse than what I've already lived through? _In fleeting moments of fear, that self-statement seemed to banish the misgivings immediately. To be kidnapped, thrown in jail or hopelessly lost without a friend in the world - that didn't sound_ so _bad.

Strangely, even though she wasn't scared per se, she was extremely nervous, and had every right to be so. To meet her long lost children, one of whom might harbor a good deal of mistrust for her, _and _to confront the sister who'd borne a murderous grudge against her for most of her life - and both in the same day.

However nervous she was, she knew it would be nothing compared to the unceasing frustration of sitting at home, sitting in class, and sitting with her friends - when there were such important things to be handled.

She smiled as she strode through the airport, realizing that in that way, she was just like her sister. Nothing on the face of the earth could ever distract her from doing what she felt she _must _do.

Diva knew what her first order of business was.

She actually had no idea of the address. She didn't need to. Diva could sense where her _babies_ were.

The only problem was that it made the drive rather confusing for the cab driver, getting directions like _just go that way for a while._

But eventually, she found herself standing in front of a relatively nice apartment building, staring at a particular, ground-level door, simply but tastefully decorated with a fern to one side and a few pots of fuchsias, dangling from the overhang.

She wondered if this is what Saya felt like, walking into the Met.

One hand reached out, finger gingerly jabbing the doorbell, as if she expected it to bite her. She trembled as she listened to the approaching footsteps, the hasty plodding of bare feet against a wood floor.

It seemed that the very second the door was open, the two pairs of virtually identical, ocean-blue eyes locked together.

"It's you…" Ruka whispered.

Diva was struck utterly mute._ What could I possibly say?_

She wondered if her daughter was thinking the same thing, and for the briefest of moments, wondered if this was how Solomon felt when he saw his own estranged children.

The two pairs of blue eyes simultaneously misted over, and both seeing the emotion on the other's face, it was impossible to hold back any longer.

Diva's doubts deferred to instinct, opening her arms invitingly, and that was all the invitation Ruka needed.

The two Queens wept and embraced. After all, it seemed like the only _normal_ response to meeting a long-lost parent or child.

"Ruka? Who is it?" a voice called from inside.

Ruka pulled away, sniffing and drying her eyes. "Go on," she said softly, "she's inside. There'll be plenty of time for us. But right now, she needs you more than I do."

Diva stepped past Ruka, and into the living room, where Aka sat, facing away from her, watching the television.

But a moment later, without any introduction or announcement from Ruka, Akahana abruptly stood from her place on the couch, eyes wide with surprise for a split second, before they narrowed in suspicion.

"Have they sent you to _deal with me_ again?" she murmured bitterly. "Because they needn't have bothered._ I_ was wrong and _they_ were right. It's all _my_ fault, and I'm sorry. I'm not going to making a fuss or go around starting fights."

"No one knows I'm here, except for you two." Diva paused. "I'm sorry I didn't recognize you before – I had no idea that I even had -"

"I know," Aka stated tonelessly, sitting down.

Diva nervously crossed the room, sitting a foot or so away from her child. Ruka remained in the doorway, observing quietly.

"All I knew was that Saya's girls had been taken, and they thought I had a good chance of being able to talk Karl into giving them back. They never bothered to explain anything to me. I had no idea -"

Aka's mind just latched on to the name Diva had used. "None of you understand." She snapped, raising her voice, speaking to Diva but clearly intending the message for Ruka. "None of you have any idea what he went through, what his life was life was like, even _before_ Amshel tortured him for twenty years, straight. You don't know what he told me, about what happened to his family, what they did to him at that orphanage -"

"But that didn't give him the right to hurt people!" Diva interrupted.

Aka froze, lips pressed together in a thoughtful frown, not unlike her mother's. Ruka had said those words to her several times, but she'd never let them in, never allowed herself to process that basic fact. But now, it was coming from the _one_ person who truly understood that idea, who had gone though something similar to Karl – a life of abject loneliness and merciless abuse.

The tears finally broke through Aka's stony countenance, letting out a yelp-like sob and throwing herself into her mother's arms.

"Why?" she sobbed into Diva's shoulder. "Why is it that _you're_ okay and _he_ wasn't? You were fucked up, and your memories came back, then why couldn't he have just _gotten over it_ like you seem to have?'

"I don't know, baby." Diva choked back her own tear, unthinkingly referring to her daughter by the only name she'd ever chosen for her.

"There has to be _some_ reason!" Aka demanded in despair.

"I just don't know." Diva paused, shoulders tense from frustration. "I don't know why things happened this way… maybe - it's because everyone is different. I don't know much, but it does seem like some people are shattered by things that don't even seem like a big deal, and others – others can go through hell and come out the other side, a better person. I don't know why. They just do."

Diva leaned away, staring her daughter in the eye. "I really wish I knew some perfect thing to say, that would make it all make sense, that would make it all better – but I don't." She swallowed another sob. "There's nothing I want more than to fix this for you, but I don't know how," she said, pounding her fist against her own knee, wondering if this was how all mothers felt when their children were in pain… and then she thought of her own mother, what her own mother had said to comfort her, only a few weeks earlier.

"But I do know this – women in this family are experts at surviving hard times. My mom did, my sister did… and we _will._" She leaned forward, lightly pressing her forehead against Aka's. "You know why?" she sniffed back another course of tears. "Because we have to _be there_ for our daughters. I've gotta be here for you, and you've gotta be here for your baby, okay?"

* * *

After a great deal of weeping and eventually, tea, cookies and relatively normal friendly banter, Diva knew she had to move on to her next pressing order of business.

And she found herself standing in front of a modest but neatly kept condo-type home. She was actually about to chicken out, until she noticed the rose bush growing by the driveway.

_The roses are blue?_

She looked at the plant more carefully, noting that it looked vigorous and well established, suggesting that it had been there, and carefully tended, for several years.

_Saya planted it before she knew I had _changed._ Even back then, she didn't hate me, at least not completely._

_I can do this…_

Without having to knock, the door opened, and she flinched when her eyes moved up to Haji's face. For a moment, she half expected him to attack her, or at least slam the door.

True to form, Haji's face remained entirely straight, looking neither surprised nor upset. For a long moment, he neither said nor did anything, seeming to look right through her. He was assessing the situation carefully.

Weeks ago, Diva's earnest attempts at gaining Saya's affection, had earned his respect. But now he was beginning to realize just how much of these warm feelings hinged on the fact that at the time, Diva had no idea what she had done to warrant anything _but_ warm feelings.

But the girl standing on his porch, she _knew. _She _knew _that she had killed Joel and virtually all of his acquaintances. She _knew_ that she had defiled and murdered Riku.

Without warning, Diva's eyes started to tear up; she seemed to guess what he was thinking, that he was mulling over her many sins.

She turned away, to hide the look of shame and sadness on her face.

But it was that look, that softened Haji's bitterness. The same look he'd seen on Saya's face, so many times.

For the briefest of moments, he even wondered if he should offer her one of the warm, brotherly hugs that had seemed to comfort her sister in the past. But he couldn't quite bring himself to go that far.

However, contrary to his habit, he made an autonomous decision.

Haji stepped out of the doorway, one hand gesturing inside the house.

"This way."

She turned around, displaying a surprised, hopeful smile, which he only saw for a moment, before he turned his back on her, walking the short distance to the back door. Gathering her courage, Diva followed, until he halted her with his arm.

Diva could see that Saya was sitting outside, watching Rose and Lis play in the sand box, the two adorable princesses crouched over a dribbling garden hose, using it to create a mote for their castle.

"Wait here."

Haji stepped out the back door, walking across the small lawn, and then leaning down to Saya's shoulder, he whispered something in her ear.

Saya started noticeably, eyes shooting over to the back door. She rose from her place on the garden bench, staring dumbly for several seconds.

Haji gave a slight bow and withdrew back into the house, as if he were merely a butler who'd shown a guest in to his mistress.

Yanked forward by the inescapable grip of destiny, Diva began to cross the yard to Saya.

"H-hi," Diva said, nervous and somber.

"Hi," Saya echoed in much the same tone. After a long, awkward silence, Saya spoke again. "I didn't know you were in town."

Diva's posture loosened slightly, gaining a little reassurance by Saya's making such a civil statement, instead of immediately screaming at her, or demanding that she leave and never come back.

Saya was definitely surprised to see her, but showed no visible hostility. In all truth, Saya hadn't quite decided what to think of Diva, now.

"I felt like there were things that I had to take care of, here – and I felt like they couldn't wait," Diva said, still too nervous to be articulate.

"Oh." Saya paused. "You went to see Aka and Ruka?"

"Yeah."

Another long silence, as Diva looked out at the two little girls, playing obliviously. She briefly recalled Solomon's suggestion on a foolproof topic of conversation, with Saya.

But there was only one thing she could think to say. "It looks like I really am doomed to be jealous of you, forever," she said, still staring at Rose and Lis. "But I feel like I'm starting to learn how to be happy for you." Diva smiled. "Just as long as you know how lucky you are."

Saya watched the little girls too. "I guess, what happened a few weeks ago, kind of reminded me of how lucky I am to have them."

"And to be able to raise them yourself," Diva said, surprisingly toneless. She looked up at Saya. "That brings me to one of the things I wanted to say to you."

"Hm?"

"I wanted to thank you, for killing me," Diva stated plainly.

"Diva -"

"I really am grateful, that you killed me." She drew in a deep breath. "If you hadn't killed me, then Amshel would have used me to take over the world. Millions, maybe billions of people would have died. And I understand now, that even if I had lived, Amshel would have probably taken my babies, and done the same things to them that he did to me. And even if I was able to raise them – just as I couldn't learn how to be a good, sane person from Amshel, how could they have learned that from me? They might not have come out as warped as I was, but they certainly wouldn't be as perfect as they are now."

Diva reached out, taking Saya's hand. "And – if you hadn't killed me, then I wouldn't have been – reborn. I would have missed out on these five, perfect years, and now. Now, when I have exactly what I've always wanted."

"A family," Saya murmured, thinking of what Nathan had said, years ago.

"Yeah." Diva paused, smiling mysteriously. "It's a good thing I didn't know you were planning to kill my babies. Otherwise, I probably would have gone all _scary monster_ on your ass, ripped you to shreds."

"Diva, I -"

"It's okay," Diva assured her, patting her hand. "They're alright , and that's the only thing that really matters. And besides, I would be a total hypocrite if I blamed you for something you did while you were completely delusional."

Saya was about to dispute that, but decided not to.

Diva swallowed. "Most of all, I wanted to say that I'm sorry. I know it won't fix anything, but I am sorry, and I want you to know that." Diva felt tears returning to her eyes. "I killed so many people – but if I could give my life to bring just one of them back, I would." She stared at Saya pleadingly. "But I can't. Trust me, the thought of killing myself has more than just crossed my mind. But even if I don't deserve to live, if I actually did it – all it would do is break the hearts of the people that care about me. And causing more pain than I already have, is the last thing I want to do. So I guess I just have to suck it up, and keep going. Like you did." She smiled. "Funny how impossible tasks seem easier when you have absolutely no choice."

She swallowed again. "And I don't just want to say I'm sorry to everyone I ever hurt. I want to say I'm sorry to you, personally. For the pain I've caused _you._ I destroyed the perfect life you had at the Zoo. I killed –J- your father. And I killed your brother."

Even though Diva was clearly weeping genuine tears of remorse, Saya's pity evaporated into a cloud of hatred; she couldn't control herself at the mention of Riku.

"Why him?" She roared, just now realizing that she was crying herself. With that, the twin little girls looked up in confusion. Haji immediately stepped out from his place in the doorway, and herded Rose and Lis inside, with promises of their favorite television show.

"Why couldn't you have gone after Haji? At least _he _could have fought back!" Saya snapped.

Diva winced. "I chose Riku _because _he was so harmless and innocent."

Bitterness flared into rage, and Saya began to rise from her seat, unsure of what she'd do next.

"I really did love him!" Diva whispered pleadingly. "As much as that was possible for me back then. And I didn't know it would kill him! I wanted to keep him!"

That seemed to knock the wind out of Saya's rage, and she sank back toward the bench.

"You don't know what it's like," Diva said, with tragic conviction. "I might not have looked it, I was scared. Of everyone and everything… it's so hard to explain – it's like – imagine that you're on an alien planet, with a completely alien society, and then imagine that no one every bothers to teach you how things work there. You'd be scared all of the time. You might not look it to the aliens, because you don't know how to express it the way the aliens do, but it's still how you feel. And what does an animal do when it's frightened by a smaller, weaker animal - it kills it, that's what." Diva sighed, realizing that she was getting off topic. "I guess I shouldn't expect you to understand."

But Saya's face had gone white. The description Diva had just given her seemed to be a remarkably close likeness to her own memories of the massacre in Vietnam.

And then her mind skidded onto the same thought that had so distressed her, sitting in Joel VI's office, almost forty years ago.

_I'm just as bad and mean and cruel as Diva._

Saya had killed dozens of people, sliced a cowering little girl in half, skewered a mother and baby together as they fled, severely wounded her best friend...

Diva's crimes were worse, and probably more numerous - but not by _that_ much. The difference was not fundamental, but one of degrees.

Saya's attention was dragged back to the present, as Diva continued.

"I was scared of everything. Especially mating. My body told me it was wrong, and the things I used to see Amshel do - " She paused, taking a moment to weep. "But Riku… he was so _not_ scary. I liked him from the moment I met him, in the tower. He didn't run from me. He hugged me, and called me _Saya_." Diva choked on the name. "Without knowing it, he was fulfilling my greatest fantasy – to be you."

"Then why did you kill him, that afternoon?" Saya asked, now more tearful than vindictive.

"But I didn't kill him," Diva said, confused. "He was alive when I left."

"He would have died!" Saya growled, anger returning.

Diva took on a slightly annoyed frown. "Saya, you really expected me to know the intricacies of exactly how much blood-loss a human can survive? I didn't even really understand what death _was_."

When Diva saw her own slight hostility mirrored in Saya's face, she realized that arguing wouldn't help anything. She attempted to steer the conversation back to what she'd said before that, which had seemed to get through to Saya.

"I wanted to be you, Saya. You had everything. _Everything._ And all I wanted was to have what you had, to understand what you seemed to understand. For a long time, I never _really _wanted to hurt you, until -"

Diva paused to think._ What did make me decide to kill her?_

And then her own face turned white with disturbing realization.

_Until Solomon took an interest in you._

She shook off the thought. "Well, you attacked me first," she said, without apparent judgment, only stating a simple fact. "But it's pointless to argue about it." She dropped her gaze. "I was bad. You were good. But it doesn't change the fact that over the years, we've both hurt each other, even if there was no intention to be cruel."

Diva sniffed, and forced her eyes to Saya's. "But I can forgive you, if you can forgive me."

A fleeting jolt of outrage shot through Saya, outrage at the idea that Diva had anything to forgive _her_ for. But Saya's anger dissipated just as quickly, when she realized that, by habit, she was thinking only of the distant past, not the recent.

Not three weeks ago, Diva had essentially gotten killed trying to save Saya's children, in accordance with Saya's desperate pleas. Not only that, but it had been Saya's stray projectile that had killed her. And while Diva was not _permanently_ dead, she would never again know the blissful ignorance that Saya herself still often longed for.

_I've - I've ruined her life. I didn't mean to, but because of my actions, she's lost the perfect, happy life that she had._

_Just like what she did to me. She didn't intentionally destroy my life back at the Zoo, but that was what happened._

_No, it must be even worse for her._

_Then I guess we're - even._

And Saya uttered the magic words again. "I forgive you."

"Even for Riku?" Diva asked tearfully.

Saya's lower lip tensed. "Yes -"

Before Saya had even finished saying it, her words were cut off by passionate sobbing, as loud and deep as at any of the most emotional moments of Saya's life. So much so, that for a moment, Saya didn't realize that Diva was the one who was sobbing, and she herself was only weeping softly.

_"You have no idea how much that means to me."_

And Saya felt something that she'd never fully felt before - a deep-seated camaraderie resulting from years of shared tragedy, similar to what she felt for Haji. But there was something else to it, something protective, but not in the same fierce, all-consuming way she felt for her children. Something milder, and more mutual.

For the first time since Diva had regained her past, Saya could truly see her as her little sister. Someone who needed support and guidance through a crisis that her older sister was already well familiar with.

Saya reached for her, embracing her tightly and Diva's crying immediately turned into a dry, muffled hiccup.

After several minutes, Diva finally looked up at her. "Saya - please - teach me how to _live with it all_."

* * *

A small crowed was gathered on Saya and Haji's front lawn, all familiar faces, virtually the entire family. There were a few more confrontations yet.

Diva stepped out of the house, toward her parents, who were both making a concerted effort to look sternly annoyed.

"Before you ground me for life," Diva began, "keep in mind what you've just done. You dropped everything and flew to the other side of the world, because you were worried about your daughter. Which is exactly what I did."

"That is true, precious," her mother replied, deceptively sweet at first, but tone quickly turning grouchy. "But _we_ didn't charge nine thousand dollars to someone else's credit card, now did we?" she smiled vengefully. "_Someone _is going to be doing an awful lot of extra chores to work that off."

Even as her mother pronounced this lenient, yet dire sentence, Diva looked about the faces present, searching for Solomon. But he seemed to be the only one who wasn't there.

A moment later, a sullen-faced Aka stepped toward Saya, gaining the attention of the already hushed crowd.

_"A crucial moment approaches," _Nathan thought to his wife. "_If a feud starts, it'll start now."_

"I - " Aka paused, scowling at no one in particular. "I'm sorry about -" her tone shifted to the defensive, "the way I see it, you and I are even. I helped kidnap your children, and put them in danger of their lives. You killed my husband. I'd say those are pretty much on par. We were both trying to protect someone we loved, and we both got a little carried away."

Saya didn't argue. It seemed that her earlier conversation with Diva had put her in a forgiving mood.

"I don't want there to be any grudges between us. I understand that people make mistakes." Saya stated, not quite sounding sincere, yet. "Haji, bring it out here."

"Bring what?" Ruka asked.

Haji disappeared into the house for a moment, and returned with a large paper shopping bag, handing it to Saya, who in turn extended the peace-offering out to Aka. "Baby clothes," Saya stated. "Most of them have only been worn once or not at all. I know you won't need them for a while, but I thought you might be able to use them."

_It's that baby inside you, that saved Lis' life, _Saya thought.

Aka hesitated, and Ruka took the bag, looking inside and riffling through the clothes. "Wow, these look expensive, and totally cute!"

Akahana showed a half-smile, and took hold of the bag.

Diva smiled too, enchanted by the scene, and the idea of a new baby in the family.

_Maybe I can help her with her baby; that would certainly be a good bonding experience. I'll be graduating right around the time she gives birth; I wonder if I could arrange to go to college here in Okinawa. Probably, now that I have my powers back, I can be as freakishly good at soccer as I dare to, and maybe I can use that..._

Diva was distracted from her reverie, by a face she had just now noticed, on the periphery of the crowd. She unconsciously put her hand over her heart as she moved forward, her parents stepping aside to let her pass toward him.

Diva paused directly in front of him for a moment, and then leapt forward, hugging him tightly.

Kai stood, rigid as a board in Diva's embrace, hands glued to his sides like a soldier at attention, his face betraying his feelings of bitterness and embarrassment. Mao, standing right next to him, pursed her lips in annoyance.

"Thank you so much!" Diva exclaimed, voice crackling with emotion. "Oh god, thank you so much! I could say _thank you_ a thousand times a day till the end of the world, and it would never be enough."

Kai stepped out of her embrace, and if he had any doubts as to what she was talking about, she dispelled them a second later. "You saved their lives and then you raised them as your own." She started crying in earnest. "They're both so perfect, and I know it had to have been you that _made _them that way. Even though you hated me so much, I owe you more than anyone."

"I didn't do it for _you,"_ Kai muttered, his tone not quite as cold as his words.

"I know," Diva sighed. "You did it because it was the right thing to do, and because they're Riku's." She smiled. "I know it sounds stupid, but I feel like I have to ask - if there's anything I could ever do to repay you?"

Mao scowled at her, not liking the sound of that one bit, especially because it was coming from this sweet teenage girl who had such a strong resemblance to Saya.

"Just - please don't hug me again," Kai implored.

"Oh," Diva dropped her gaze, "Sorry - I didn't - I guess you have every right to _still _hate me."

"I don't _hate _you," he corrected her exasperatedly. "The fact that you're so grateful shows that you really care about the twins. You truly love someone I love, so I can't _hate _you. Just - don't hug me."

"Oh," Diva said again, more cheerfully. "Ok."

Unexpectedly, Mao stepped forward, still frowning, and produced a thick, violet-covered book from under her arm. She thrust the book out toward Diva.

"We made this for you," she said, sounding as grouchy and scary as ever.

Diva began to thumb through the book, quickly discovering that it was a very nicely put-together photo album, exclusively devoted to her daughters; beginning with baby pictures, yearly school portraits, silly candid shots, furisode-clad coming-of-age photos, all the way up to them in their fancy dresses at Saya's wedding, and even the poorly-lit pictures taken at Kahoolawe.

Diva teared up once again. "I've missed so much... thank you."

Mao shrugged. "Moms are moms. We _all_ want pictures of everything."

"C'mon precious," Yuki said, voice an interesting mixture of regal-sternness and motherly-compassion, "The flight back leaves in an hour and a half. We have to get going."

Diva directed a loving, but slightly pained look to her daughters.

"We'll be fine," Ruka assured her, "And we'll stay in touch."

Aka just nodded.

"I think we'll need a better long-distance plan, my love," Nathan remarked.

"And," Yuki raised her voice to be heard by the entire group. "If I can get my shit together, this summer, we Queens will all go to Yonaguni to see the ruins. Now that you all know your past, it's time you learned your history."

* * *

Solomon sat down at the cramped kitchen table, as he'd been invited to, upon his arrival.

"Saya, there's something I need to talk to you about." He said, soft but oddly serious. As if about to announce a loved one's death.

Saya sat down too, smiling. "It's about Diva, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"You love her, don't you?"

"Yes." He paused. "But I wanted to speak to you about it first. After all, I did swear myself to you -"

"You don't need my permission!" she laughed

He was caught off guard by her lighthearted reaction. Like Haji, he hadn't exactly expected her to wail and tear at her hair, but he certainly didn't expect her to laugh. "I'm not asking for it, I just wanted to be the one to tell you."

Saya giggled again. "Diva told me, weeks ago. "

"I suppose that's to be expected, between sisters," Solomon sighed and then chucked softly in spite of himself. "And I suppose it was my vanity that made me _sort of _hope that you'd be at least a _little_ upset."

"Why would I be upset?" she said, playing dumb rather convincingly. "Solomon, after all you've done for me, how could I _not_ want you to find happiness?"

She smiled at him broadly, and again, he laughed in spite of himself. _So I've finally done it. I've returned that sweet smile to her face. If I'd known this was the way to do it, I might have saved myself a lot of trouble..._

He knew perfectly well that it wouldn't have made any difference, but it was an amusing thought nonetheless.

"Well, I'm happy for you both, and you have my blessing." she paused, smiling mysteriously. "On one condition."

Solomon listened with immense curiosity.

Saya spoke, perfectly flat and serious, but maintaining her grin. "If you're ever a jerk to her, I'll kick your ass."

The laughter erupted from his throat so suddenly that he seemed to choke on the first few syllables. It wasn't quite the last thing he'd expected her to say, but her manner of saying it was so absurdly surprising, as to be hilarious.

She laughed with him for few moments and then added: "A girl's gotta look out for her little sister."

After another minute or two of laughter, Saya spoke again. "Did you see her when she was here?"

"No," Solomon said, sounding a little ashamed. "There are still some preparations to make."

* * *

"Sir," came the coarse, weathered voice over the telephone, "I got your message, and I'm at your apartment. But you don't seem to be here. The doorman said you'd been out of town for weeks. The cat has plenty of food in her bowl, so I'm a little confused as to what you want me to do."

Solomon chuckled. "Now, now Tess, no need to get flustered," he teased the older-middle-aged secretary. "I'll be back in town on Tuesday, but there are a few things I need you to get rolling for me, prior to my return."

"And what are those, sir?"

"Well first of all, I'm letting the apartment go, immediately. I really don't care about the penalties, I just want to be rid of it."

"Should I contact some reputable movers, sir?"

"No," he said flatly. "I _will _ want you to arrange transportation for Sheba, but other than that, everything in that place can go to the devil, for all I care. I don't intend to set foot in there ever again."

"Sir, are you entirely – well, I do recall you once mentioning that you were quite attached to the place."

"And it's high time I severed that attachment." He was still speaking calmly, though slightly too cheerful to be called _ business-like._ "What I would like you to do is, clean out my vault. You know where it is, right?"

"Yes," she answered uneasily.

"Go to it, I'm texting you the code."

"Mr. Goldsmith, are you sure -"

"It's alright Tess, I trust you."

A few pops and clicks indicated that she'd unlocked it.

"It's open." Without being asked, she began rattling off the contents. If anything was already missing, she obviously didn't want to be blamed for it. "The top shelf seems to be empty, but there are a few things on the bottom: there's a Halloween mask, a turquoise ring, what looks like a pocket watch, a wooden crucifix, and -" she paused, letting out a blatant, horrified gasp. "- a Nazi armband."

Solomon laughed at her discomfort. "Now, don't think less of me Tess. I assure you, that armband came off a dead man."

"Oh," she replied, disinterestedly. "Now, what would you like me to do with these things, sir? Shall I contact the bank -"

"No," he cut her off. "I want you to turn on the fireplace, and toss it all in there."

"Sir?"

"You heard me."

He'd considered giving Karl's mask to Akahana. But Karl wasn't the man she'd fallen in love with. The mask would have only been a relic of how she'd misjudged him.

"Including the jewelry?"

"Hmm, I suppose your right. It won't really burn up. Oh well." Solomon felt some morbid amusement at the idea of the next occupant picking up Amshel's ring, having no idea of the evil it had once been contiguous with. _ Sounds like the beginning of a ghost story._

He listened to the following sounds with interest, modestly high-heels clicking across the floor, the _whoosh _of the fireplace starting, and the flame's delighted roar as it devoured the accursed objects.

Solomon closed his eyes, imagining that a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, while simultaneously noting that he didn't feel _that_ different, and wondering if he was a coward for asking someone else to do this for him. He knew perfectly well that he might not have had the nerve to do it himself.

That in mind, he was a little surprised at how lighthearted his voice came out. "Done?"

"Yes, sir."

"Now, walk back over to the safe," he instructed. "And look on the top shelf again. I'm sure it's there, just hard to spot."

"Oh," Tess said, a little surprised. "There's a bank card here."

"It's connected to a well-hidden overseas account. It should have eleven point two million dollars in it, as we speak." He grinned fiendishly. "If you do what I'm going to ask you next, It's yours, Tess. You and John can have that dream retirement upstate, that I've heard you talking about. _If _ you do what I ask."

He was surprised at the lack of a gasp. "This is going to be illegal, isn't it?" she asked shrewdly.

"Of course. But don't worry. You won't have to kill anybody." He paused to chuckle."Quite the opposite, actually."

* * *

Only a few more chapters to go, and fear not! As long as there is interest in this story, I promise it WILL get finished!

So review! Please?


	20. Bittersweet

Insanely overdue as usual!

* * *

Diva paced in the orange orchard, clad in slightly muddied sweatpants and a tank top, hair tied up in a bandanna. Apparently, her mother and father had decided that her first task toward working off the money she'd stolen/spent, would be to help with the yard-work. In a move that struck Diva as almost vindictive, her mother had dismissed the gardener for the day, declaring that Diva would finish whatever work was left, on the extensive, high-maintenance grounds.

A few minutes prior, Diva decided that she'd earned a break from her toil, and used that time to update her friend with the events of her brief foray to Japan.

"... So, that's what happened," Diva sighed into her cell phone.

"Are - are you okay?" Max asked, a little awkwardly.

"I guess so. I feel almost like - I should feel worse, you know? Like all these feelings sort of cancel each other out, and I can't feel anything anymore."

_Numb. That's the word._

"And, it's like - I don't know who I am, who _Diva _is, you know?"

Max sighed. "Diva, you're in high school. None of us know who we are."

For some reason, that made Diva feel significantly better.

"Hmm," Max muttered ponderously. "You didn't talk to what's his face? Solomon?"

"Nope," Diva answered, considerable effort resulting in an air of semi-nonchalance.

"Huh," Max grunted, sounding a little confused. "But after all that stuff with your sister, would you even want to get with him?"

Diva didn't answer. _Want? Yes. Should? Probably not._

"I - don't know," she said truthfully. "I mean, I know he did some shady stuff, but - it's not like he was my boyfriend. But I can also hear my inner smart-person saying _that doesn't mean that he'd behave better as my boyfriend._ And I also think of something my dad said, when I was fishing for info about Solomon, yesterday."

"What was that?"

"He said," Diva began speaking in an overly-expressive, high-pitched tone, as if she perceived him as his previous incarnation, "_Precious, Solomon will always love you. I can't promise that he won't do it in a way that wont drive you nuts, but he _will_ always love you. Between his biological predisposition and his genuine attachment to you - he won't be able to help himself._ And I think my dad's right."

"Huh," Max grunted thoughtfully. "Wish I could help, but I think this is beyond the scope of even a BFF's expertise, which, let's face it, is supposed to be in everything."

Diva sighed deeply. "New topic!" she paused, trying to think of one. "You done with that essay on -" She cut herself off, taking notice of the beeping of her phone. Holding it away from her face, she examined the caller ID, and subsequently nearly jumped out of her skin.

Apparently fate had determined that a new topic was entirely out of the question.

"Ohmygod it's him," she whispered hurriedly. "I'll call you back."

She hung up without waiting for a response from Max.

Trying desperately to breathe and not quite succeeding, Diva stared down the display on her phone, wanting to strangle that beeping for putting so much pressure on her.

Her finger hit the green button before she was really ready to talk, and she stalled for a long moment.

"H-hello-w," she spoke quietly, trying to feign calmness with all her might.

"Diva." The way he said it seemed to function equally well as a greeting.

"Hi."

A pause. "I believe I'm a little overdue for that long talk I promised you."

"Yeah," she said, now achieving a tone of irritated apathy.

He laughed, and it actually had the slightest note of discomfort. "Though, I'd imagine that _most _of the things I'd planned to tell you, you already know, now."

"Yeah," she answered, briefly wondering the other side of that _most_ could have been.

More quiet, and even to her own surprise, Diva was the one who broke it. "Why did you save me? Even after you promised you wouldn't."

Solomon's first impulse was to blurt out the same thing he'd said to Saya on Christina Island, immediately thought the better of it, and then, after of another few seconds of trying to think up something else to say, he decided he might as well. _Waste not, want not. A good line is a good line._

"Because I fell in love with you. Would that be a sufficient answer?"

Diva glared at the voice in the phone. "No," she answered flatly. "Not even close."

Solomon laughed in spite of himself. "I suppose Nathan would say that it's really because I'm a selfish man, and _I _didn't want you to die, no matter what you were afraid might happen. And he'd probably be right."

"Even though you knew I'd probably hate you, so there'd be no direct benefit for you?"

"Yes."

Now she laughed uncomfortably. "That's either the most selfish thing I've ever heard, or it's the least."

"How like _me._"

She snorted. "You're admitting a fault? Who are you and what have you done with Solomon?"

He smiled into the phone. "I'll tell you later." After a short pause, he changed the subject, still sounding confident and casual. "Even still, I suppose an apology is in order."

"For the stuff, back in the day?"

"Yes."

She snorted again, reverting back to grouchy indifference. "Knock yourself out."

Now it was Solomon's turn to hesitate.

"That day at Nathan's house - when I tried to hurt you - that was - " This was probably the most inarticulate Solomon had been in over a century, "unspeakable."

"Huh?" Diva frowned, as if he'd just brought up something entirely irrelevant. "You think _that's_ why I'm mad at you now? I mean, that pissed me off at the time, but how the hell does it make any difference now?" She laughed bitterly. "You said that you regretted it, even before you did anything."

Two minds traveled back to the same moment.

...

"I regret this," Solomon had said, before doing anything.

Solomon flew toward his Queen, drawing his weapon.

With the instincts of a wild animal, Diva identified the threat to her person, but something remarkably human caused her to hesitate.

"Diva, _please die," _ the traitor whispered pleadingly in her ear, the edge of his blade appendage pressing to her neck.

Her reaction was instantaneous and her next move showed that insane as she was, she did have a brain.

Even if she could never have comprehended the love her Chevaliers bore her, over the years, she had noticed that her _true_ face had an odd affect on them.

she turned her head slightly, showing the deranged attacker that the stolen features of Riku Miyagusuku were gone, in favor of her own enchanting face.

Solomon's desperately forlorn countenance turned to an unexpected mixture of shock and disgust at his own weakness, weakness for doing what he was doing, and weakness for being unable to finish it.

That moment of hesitation was all it took to make Solomon's defeat entirely inevitable.

The next few seconds were a blur of physical and emotional pain. He wasn't quite sure, but in those hazy moments, he thought he perceived a wider range of human-like emotion on her face, than he'd seen in the past century together, the rapid cycling between anger, sadness, confusion... or perhaps he was projecting his own feelings onto Diva's face, as psychopathically blank as ever.

...

"God, you were pathetic," Diva said, tone toxic enough to show that it bothered her more than she was willing to admit. "I'm not sure if I'm glad or sad or both that I was there to see you when you hit rock bottom."

Solomon winced at the statement, instantly realizing that it was true.

His voice became unusually somber. "Interesting that you could recognize that, even when I couldn't."

"I was at rock bottom for 61 years, Solomon," she said, low and even. "Somewhere, in the mess I called a mind, I knew what it looked like in other people. I think that's part of why I was so mad at you, in the moment. Not because you tried to kill me. I mean, back then, there were only two kinds of people - those who knelt at my feet and those who tried to kill me. It kind of made perfect sense to me that when you stopped being one, you'd become the other." She paused. "I was mad because I could tell you'd changed. You weren't my _Solomon _anymore. You were supposed to be the steady, devoted one, you know. The one who _got _me, but didn't use that to exploit me. And then you show up all scruffy and broken - it was disturbing."

Diva laughed wistfully. "You were always my favorite, you know," she snapped, as if it was another insult.

The unexpected compliment was intensely jarring amid such bitterness. "Is that so?" his shocked smile was evident in his voice. Independent of everything else, there was some considerable satisfaction in triumphing over his rivals, even if they were all dead.

"Yeah," she chortled, tone lightening. "Don't get too full of yourself though. It's kind of by process of elimination. I mean, some Chevaliers I never really knew. But the ones I did... Amshel, Grigori - and even Nathan - they were all trying to manipulate me to their own ends, and while I didn't know or understand it, I did _feel _it. But I don't hold it against my dad, now though; he was trying to help, in his way. And James and Carl - they were loving and loyal, but they were also constantly hounding me for something I didn't know how to give, _Please love us! No, wait! Please please please love us! Please love us in a way we can understand!_" She sighed. "But _you -_ you were the only one who both truly loved me and truly understood me. Not to mention that you're freaking gorgeous," she added matter-of-factly. "James and Karl were pretty easy on the eyes, but compared to you - " she gave a brief giggle. "I had quite a crush on you, you know."

"Did you?"

"Yeah. But not in any _normal_ way, though. More like a 10-year-old girl with a crush on a movie star. She likes looking at him, but doesn't quite understand why. She knows she _wants _him, but she has no idea what she'd do with him if she had him."

"I see."

Diva felt compelled to out and say it. "It really hurt me when you left, you know."

There was a long silence as Solomon kicked himself for not going into the conversation better prepared to defend his indefensible actions.

"If it had been anyone else involved, I could have handled it," Diva continued. "If you'd left me for some random slut, or if it'd been Karl or James that left me for Saya - that wouldn't have been so bad. But it had to be _you _and _her. _The person who had everything I wanted but couldn't have, with the person I had, that I actually wanted to keep. It really sucked."

yet another long silence.

"Say something," she demanded quietly.

"Well," he hesitated, "unfortunately, the telephone isn't very conducive to telling you the other things on my mind. I suppose those will have to wait until we meet in person."

"No!" she whined childishly, sensing an eminent profession of love and the abject apology she deserved, "Tell me now! I don't want to wait until you fly all the way out here!"

She waited for another response, but none came. Eventually, she looked at the display on the phone.

"That butt-hole hung up on me!" Diva declared aloud.

She had to make use of all her new-found self-control not to pitch the phone at a tree, beheading the messenger.

_Just when we were starting to get somewhere! _she thought, stomping her foot with a whining-grunt.

But as she tried to calm her fury with a few deep breaths, she noticed a soft rustling coming from the unkempt woods beyond the orchard. It was too rhythmic to be the skitterings of a bird or squirrel.

Instinctively, she turned in the direction of the noise.

For a moment, she doubted the truth of what she saw. She wouldn't have been able to discern the figure, if it hadn't been bright white.

Her hands moved up to her face, forming a steeple around her nose and mouth, muffling a deep, airy gasp. It went without saying that he must have called her from just beyond her own driveway.

Solomon was walking toward her, slowly but purposefully, as if pacing along to a crescendo of some romantic music.

Drawing ever closer, the dappled shade danced across the breast of his snow-white suit, face bearing an affectionate but self-assured smile, peridot eyes uncharacteristically soulful.

The sides of Diva's palms intercepted the pair of silent tears that were attempting to escape. Somehow, catching sight of him seemed to dissipate the numbness that had clouded her emotions for the past few days.

The white-suit clad knight approaching the girl in dirty-yard-work garb - one would've half expected him to produce a glass-slipper.

Solomon finally came to a stop, a few paces in front of her.

"You're here," she sputtered, unable to think of anything less moronically obvious to say.

As if to complete the uncanny symmetry from that emotional afternoon at Nathan's estate, four decades previously, the prodigal knight knelt on one knee, looking up at her, tenderly but expectantly, silently asking from a hand to kiss.

If she hadn't known better, she would have thought he was about to pop_ the question_.

She extended an arm down to him, out of sheer habit, if nothing else, but briefly drew it back before he could reach it.

"You had something to say to me?" she said, stern and meaningful..

He grinned resignedly, shifting in his place, until now both white-clad knees were in the dirt. The better to grovel with.

"Diva, I'm sorry," he said, voice twice as gently-melodic as usual.

She shook her head, hell-bent on not being taken in by his damnable charm. "You're only sorry because she turned you down. If Saya hadn't been in love with Haji her whole life, you'd have nothing to say to me, right now."

"Have you forgotten that you _were _my first choice?" he returned softly, "You rejected me long before all that. Knowing that you'd never love me the way I loved you, eventually, a combination of loneliness, selfishness, and boredom, drove me to fall for the only woman in the world who could ever compare to you. One can only maintain devotion to a lost cause for _so_ long. And I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I've moved on from Saya much faster than I did from you."

Diva felt an odd warmth at hearing that, but managed to shake it off. "But that doesn't change the fact that if Saya hadn't shot you down, you wouldn't be giving me the time of day."

"I'm not sure that's true." Solomon thought a moment. Of all the fantasies he'd entertained in which Saya had chosen him, this one hadn't occurred to him, until now. He spoke in a strangely subdued - almost depressed tone. "If she had chosen me, and you were resurrected as you are... my god, knowing myself, I would have made quite a mess of things. Left my wife and children. In the long run, I don't think I'd have been able to help myself."

Diva gave this statement due consideration, noting how his tone was lacking in its usual persuasive charm; it was more like the way someone would talk to them self. Coming from him, she felt that it suggested honesty.

On one hand, she was understandably gratified by the thought that he would have chosen her over Saya, and this was all the additional proof she felt she needed, in terms of his genuinely preferring herself over her sister. But at the same time, Diva could not quite block out the part where he left his wife and children for another woman, his sister-in-law, no less. Even if the transfer of his affections ended in her favor, under those circumstances, he would still have been a bastard of the highest order.

Solomon sighed. "But I suppose _what if_ has no place in reality."

Diva groaned. "I guess there's no point in me being mad at you for something you never did. Especially when there're plenty of _real _things to be mad at you about."

"Do you forgive me?"

"Of course I forgive you," she snapped. "It's my trust that you're gonna have to _work _for."

Solomon shrugged. "Trust, at least _complete _trust, is for idiots anyway. I'm not asking you to trust me. You're welcome to be suspicious of everything I do. I deserve no less."

Diva crossed her arms, glaring immovably.

Solomon realized that the time had come to say what _really_ needed to be said. "The simple truth is that I've always loved you," he professed, appropriately ardent for such a statement. "I loved you as you were a hundred years ago, I loved you as you were last winter, and I love you as you are now."

That was it. That was all it took, all she had to hear to destroy all misgivings or restraint, at least for the moment.

"I love you!" Diva hurled herself into his arms, nuzzling her face against his shoulder, sobbing again and again: "I love you, I love you, I love you."

Solomon smiled, the sensation of serene victory seeming rather foreign, even considering his sanguine disposition.

After a minute or two of the hysterical declarations, she seemed to come a little closer to rational reality. An idea crept to the forefront of her thoughts. It had been in the back of her mind for weeks, but only now, could she truly wrap her head around it.

"But, I'm not either of those _Divas _that you loved," she said, tone an interesting mixture of whiny and epiphany. "I'm not Crazy Evil Diva and I'm not Stupid Normal Diva."

"I know," he said calmly. "And I understand that it would be a gross oversimplification to say that you're just a mixture of the two. Personalities are more complicated than that. Believe me, _I_ would know." He stepped closer, gently touching her chin with his fingertips. "Along with both of those _Divas,_ there is something new," his eyes shifted back and forth, as if he was literally reading her "- regret, anger, guilt, confusion, wisdom - right?"

"Yes," she answered breathlessly.

" Well, I love you more for it, impossible as that might have seemed five minutes ago."

And he meant that from his core. Diva's conflicted sadness made her all the more attractive to him. After all, Solomon had first developed a crush on Saya when she was an ordinary teenager, but it was only after getting some idea as to how messed up she was that he'd fallen madly in love with her. A man with such an overblown ego - of course he'd have a fetish for the distressed damsel.

Her eyes narrowed, as if squinting hard enough might make his meaning clear. And when her eyes met his lips, curled into a smug yet slightly condescending smile, she understood.

"I don't need to be _rescued_," she stated, tone surprisingly gentle even as she pushed away from him.

He chuckled, and she wanted to punch him for it. "I know you don't _need_ to be rescued. But I _would _like to try, just for fun. And I would certainly let you return the favor."

She wasn't quite sure what he meant, but she smiled at the sound of it.

"After all," he continued. "I have a lot of experience living with regret, guilt, anger, confusion, and such. Perhaps it might do you some good to be around someone who knows how to coexist with those things." He gave a self-deprecating smile. "And perhaps it would do me some good to be around someone who doesn't. Who knows, perhaps after a few centuries together, I'll be less of a cold-hearted bastard and you'll be - more accepting of your past faults and mistakes."

"Hmm." Diva contemplated his offer, and the wisdom (or lack thereof) of accepting it. But an odd statement came into her mind, words of advice she'd once given.

_Risk of failure equals don't even try? Now there's an attitude that'll get you ahead in life..._

"You're a bastard and if I slapped you and never spoke to you again, you'd deserve it. But I don't care," she said stubbornly. "_I_ want you to be with me. That's what _I _want. So I'll give you a chance." She squinted at him with facetious distrust, that was only mostly facetious. "But if you ever try to hurt me again or start chasing after other girls, it's over. No explanations, no excuses. No _third_ chances. That's it. I mean, I know that our relationship back then didn't have even the slightest resemblance to a couple, other than the spectacularly dysfunctional breakup and trying to kill each other, so technically, you never cheated on me, but _still_."

"Fair enough," he said, chuckling maddeningly. "Any other provisos?"

She glared at him. "I'm serious, you jackass!"

"So am I." His look became a more earnest version of his usual expression. "And besides, how could I bring myself to harm you? I think that previous incident shows that I quite literally don't have it in me. But as for the faithfulness - you're right. Much as I'd loved you, there wasn't much in the way of the sort of thing that satisfies one's - romantic cravings."

Diva scowled again, fists on her hips. "Are you saying that if I'd put out, you'd have stuck with me?"

"I think I'd better not answer that, on the grounds that it might make me look like even _more _of a bastard." His face returned to its usual sly, cat-like grin. "But I think you know it wasn't that simple."

"I know, I know," she said, rolling her eyes, expression changing abruptly, indicating that she'd thought of something. Her voice took on that whiny tone again. "But I can't just run off with you to your castle in France, or whatever. I have a life here, and if I _were _to run away, it should be to Okinawa, to be with my daughters, not _you._"

His grin turned even more smug than usual. "I knew you'd say that. That's why I'm in the process of moving into a nice little place, just off Laurel Canyon."

She gave her cute, thoughtful frown. "I know where that is, that's like, just the other side of town."

"Exactly," he declared. "Oh, have a look at this -"

He pulled out his driver's license and handed it to her. "Solomon Goldsmith the fifth is dead; I'm his long lost son, Solomon Goldsmith VI."

The frown became even more thoughtful, and thus more cute. "Huh?"

"You see, a few weeks ago, Solomon Goldsmith V was seen jumping off a rather tall bridge, and while a body hasn't been found, several people witnessed the act, so declaring him legally dead hasn't been _that _difficult. Shortly after his death, several interesting family secrets surfaced, chiefly that some time ago, he actually had an illegitimate son by a woman whom he later hired as his secretary, and has worked for him, for the last few years. In order to avoid scandal, apparently the child was raised abroad, under a different surname. He spent virtually his entire young life at a now-coed boarding school in Vietnam, that just so happens to still receive a good chunk of its funding from the Goldsmith Trust, thus the name Goldsmith still holds enough weight to - say - justify the creation of a fraudulent student file.

"Being a clever child, young Solomon began college at the age of fifteen, at a university that also receives generous donations from the Goldsmith Trust, enough to justify the creation of yet more fraudulent paperwork, so much, in fact, that he recently _earned _ his degree. And immediately following that, just like in a stupid movie, he discovered his true parentage, only with the death of his father - and simultaneously discovered himself to be the sole heir to his father's billions. And not too surprisingly, his first order of business upon discovering his fortune was to move out to an affluent area in sunny California, and of course, give several million dollars to his long-lost biological mother, who incidentally played a key role in proving the young man's identity."

Solomon laughed, and Diva did too, once she had fully wrapped her head around his story.

"So wait," she held up a hand, as if to physically halt him. "You faked your own death, created a son out of thin air, took his identity, and then inherited your own money?"

"When you have a loyal secretary and a clever lawyer, anything is possible." He continued to chuckle. "Oh, and you'll love this - did you notice the birth date?"

She apparently had, and began counting on her fingers, until they were gently grasped in Solomon's hands.

"On paper, I'm 19," he said, unable to restrain yet another chuckle.

She giggled for a moment. "You may look younger than you really are, but I don't think you could pass for 19, no matter how I dress you."

"Don't worry, my age will grow into me," he grinned broadly, "I toyed with the idea of making myself 18, and enrolling at your school, but I thought that would be a bit much."

Diva laughed, "You'd stick out like a sore thumb! You're way too smart and polite and confident - and not fake-y teenage boy confident, like _real_ confident."

"Well, the main point was to make starting a _new life_ a bit more across the board. Plus, no one can say that I'm too old for you."

"Still over 18," she murmured, almost inaudibly.

"What was that?" he asked, grinning even wider.

"Nothing. Nevermind."

Silence took hold, and while it wasn't awkward, it did seem to insist on being broken.

"You did all that for me?" Diva asked, almost bashfully.

"Of course."

She laughed sullenly. "Well, I guess I shouldn't be too flattered; it's nowhere near the craziest thing you've done for a girl."

He smiled, pinching her chin and pointing her face up toward him. "Just because I haven't done anything truly crazy for you, doesn't mean I wouldn't."

* * *

The soft thunder of the crashing waves, the hissing babble of the surf, rolling up the beach - there was no more comforting sound. But Akahana wasn't surprised at how little comfort it offered her, at a moment like this.

Her companion had only joined her a moment ago, taking a seat beside her on the sand.

"I heard you wanted to talk," Joel said, usual unaffected friendliness only slightly tempered by a faint echo of distance and coolness.

"How did you know to find me, here?" Aka asked calmly.

She wasn't looking at him, but she could hear the bittersweet smile in his voice. "I know you pretty well, or at least I thought I did." There was no sadness or anger in the way he said it; it was more the tone that should accompany a casual shrug. "I know you always go to the beach when you're upset, and considering what you've just been through..."

She couldn't think of how to answer, so she was silent.

"I, um," his voice took on a slight note of bashfulness. "I heard you're gonna have a baby."

"So they tell me." Even Aka was horrified by how unfeeling that sounded. "Don't get me wrong. I'm happy about this baby. I mean, I may not feel ready, but who ever does, ya know? Besides, it won't be born for almost two years." She gave a sour chortle. "I bet there'd be a lot fewer abortions if every woman had two whole years to get her shit together."

"Dunno."

Aka was eager to change the subject. "I'm sorry about your dad."

Joel sighed. "He knew the risks, and he made the choice. Braver man than I could ever be. It's funny, I never quite realized how proud I was of him until -" he stopped.

"He was a great man," Aka murmured. "Have you taken The Oath yet?"

"Yeah," he sighed again. "Strange, how I'd read those words a thousand times in my head, but hearing them come out my own mouth was a pretty nasty wake-up call."

"How so?"

"The Joel's Oath is pretty much the same as the one that all Sheilds take, except with this one extra part. _And I take to myself, the fault for my ancestors' mistakes, and the responsibility to correct them." _He gave a huff. "I know they're only words, but it's crazy how much they got to me, the sort of shit they got me to think about." He turned and looked at her. "I'm a direct descendant of the man who _really _started all this misery. And hell, I'm Amshel's first cousin, for christsake. Six times removed, but still his cousin. If you go back far enough, his ancestor and mine are the same person. And that thought makes me feel like I'll never be _clean_ again. And also - I mean, the Shield hasn't picked up an actual hostile chiropteran sighting in years, excepting what happened with - a few weeks ago. What exactly am I supposed to do, to _correct those mistakes_? I get this blame, but I don't get to fix it, 'cause it's already fixed, and -" he stopped suddenly. "Sorry, I'm rambling - as usual."

"I don't mind; it gives me a chance to delay saying what I need to say," she said frankly, letting out a just barely audible groan at the end of the statement, realizing that she was now obligated to discuss what she'd been putting off.

"I'm sorry," she finally said. "The way I treated you was - awful, and -"

"It was my fault," he interrupted. "You'd as good as told me that you weren't ready to make a Chevalier or get married. But I - I got caught up in the moment, I guess. I was the one who ruined everything. Looking back, if you'd said to me, the things I said to you, I'd probably been a bit put off." He laughed. "I don't think I would have stopped returning your calls and moved to another country, but hey, to each their own."

Again, there was no hostility in the statement. He just seemed to be making an attempt at humor.

"I should have talked to you, at least," she began. "I meant to, but I was afraid of hurting you, and I kept putting it off and putting it off, until it'd been so long that it seemed a little stupid to - I guess it's that same old story - I was trying to avoid hurting you, and that must have ended up hurting you more."

"I'm not stupid, Aka. I mean, when your girlfriend moves to a different continent without discussing it with you, that's a pretty obvious sign that it's over. That's not to say that I didn't hold out some _hope_ that we'd patch things up someday. But it's okay, Aka. You were entitled to your feelings. Maybe it would've been nice get a little heads up on them, but hey, the past is the past."

"How can you not hate me?" she burst out. "I mean, you asked me to marry you, and what did I do? I ran off with the guy who paralyzed your father - who was ultimately responsible for his death, I guess."

"Hmm," Joel scratched his chin. "My girl ran off with the guy who killed my father - sounds like a country-western song."

Aka couldn't help letting out a snort of laughter, even as she had the urge to smack him.

"God, you haven't changed," she said, voice wavering with laughter, and a touch of regret.

He laughed too. "I think it was you who said that I could always be counted on to do two things: say something stupid and pick up the tab."

Once the chuckling had died down, she decided that further stalling would be stupid, that she'd better introduce the topic while the conversation was on a high note.

It took a half-dozen deep breaths before she could speak. "Are you still interested in being immortal?"

Joel stared at her with unconcealed shock. "Aka, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were asking me to be your -"

"I'm not," she interrupted before he could say the word. "Please," her voice took on a slight whimper, "Please try to take it at face value. Are you still interested in immortality? Living forever, never getting sick or old, and having super-human abilities too? You wouldn't have to worship me, or even ever talk to me again; it would just be the blood."

Joel sighed. "Sure, I mean, who wouldn't? Hasn't that been the basic goal of every major technological advance mankind has ever made? All humans want is to live forever, fly slash go really fast, see in the dark and stuff."

Aka's heart took a hopeful leap.

"- but I don't know..." he backpedaled.

"Look Joel. I'll just lay it all out for you. The fact that I'm pregnant shows that Ruka's gonna go into hibernation sometime in the next few years, unless she gets pregnant. And even though the enzymes that cause crystallization in the opposing blood disappear soon after conception, the D-base, and the ability to change humans only starts to decrease in the second year of pregnancy. That's why Amshel didn't realize that my mother's blood was no longer deadly. He assumed that if it could still be used to manufacture D-67, it must still work against Saya. But that isn't the case; Dr. Silverstein proved that with her research during Saya's pregnancy." She paused to breathe. "Me and Ruka talked about the idea of me changing Dave, so they can just have kids together and be done with it, but she's afraid that his being my Chevalier would probably complicate their relationship." She looked up at Joel. "But if you agree to this, if you're the one who helps her have her babies... And Dave's totally in favor of it. You know how much he respects and trusts you. He even said, _if there's any man I'd trust with a Chevalier's power, it's Joel._"

Seeing the pained look on his face, her voice elevated, like a salesperson with a client who was walking away. "I know I am the last person in the world who has any right to ask a favor of you. But the way I see it, it's not _that _much of a favor. You'd be getting eternal youth and a free lay, both with no strings attached. Most people would say that's a pretty sweet deal."

His continued silence made her nervous. "Ruka and Dave are totally ready to have kids, and you wouldn't have to do anything after - the initial _doing_. Dave would be their dad." Her breathing started to take on a slight tremor. "And I know that getting it on with Ruka can't be _that_ nasty to you, I mean, you were presumably attracted to me once, and we pretty much look the same." Aka let out a slight, airy grunt. "Then again, maybe that _would_ make her more repulsive, to you."

He was still silent, staring out at the sea, like she had been, a few minutes earlier.

"Joel, please!" Finally, the desperation broke though her composure, and she began crying as she begged him, even though she'd promised herself she wouldn't. She wasn't trying to manipulate him consciously; she just really couldn't hold it together anymore. "Please. If I lose Ruka for thirty years - I don't think I could deal with it, not now, not with all this other shit on my shoulders."

Still not looking at her, he spoke, "You said that I didn't _have to_ be your - um, companion. Well, what if I actually wa-"

"Stop!" she demanded, a knee-jerk reaction even though she'd anticipated that he might say something like that, knowing how jackassedly-sweet he was. "Don't say it. I've been a widow for less than three weeks. If you make me answer you right now, there's only one answer I'd be prepared to give you."

"Sorry," he said, truly apologetic.

"Don't apologize," she asked wistfully, "don't apologize for being nicer than I deserve."

He was now even more nerve-wrackingly silent than before, and new options that Aka hadn't previously considered, began to materialize in her mind. Last resorts past last resorts. Chief among them was to make an offer that contradicted what she'd said only a moment earlier.

_It wouldn't be that bad. If that was the only way, then Jonah would've understood._

Mercifully, before she could bring herself to say it, Joel spoke.

"Don't cry, don't cry. I'll do it."

Judging by the look on his face, he seemed a little uncomfortable with the unparalleled gratitude written all over hers. He shrugged, and his tone turned casual. "Being able to fly sounds kind of kick-ass."

Now she _really _didn't know what to say.

* * *

"Mommm!" Diva called from the back door, striding through the house with Solomon in tow. "I'm going to see Solomon's new house. Be back - whenever!"

"Alright precious," Nathan answered.

"Freddie, stop her," Yuki muttered.

"Why, my love?"

Yuki rolled her eyes. "Because she's _going back to his place_! That means they're going to have sex, doesn't it?"

Nathan grinned. "Give her a break, darling. She's over 200 years old, plus pregnancy and STIs are a physical impossibility. Let her have a little fun. Besides, this has been in the making for quite a while."

* * *

Reviews are love!

And needless to say, next chapter will have lemon content!


	21. Sunshine of Your Love

Indeed, I am not dead!

The following contains lemonishness! Fairly warned be yee...

* * *

The car rolled to a casual stop in the driveway. Before Diva's hand had quite reached the handle for the door, she found it already opening, Solomon standing on the other side.

"Thank you, sir," she said almost in a groan. For some reason, that little bit of antiquated chivalry gave Diva the fleeting urge to smack him.

But before she could berate him for treating her like a child - a state of affairs that held some understandably negative associations for her - she found herself locked in an abrupt, impulsive kiss. For the moment, the irritation melted away, dissolved by the heat of his embrace.

The kiss itself - it was one of those that was just slightly too long, just a little too open for a simple peck in the driveway.

Diva was actually somewhat shocked by the physical sensations spreading throughout her. It made her think of back when Solomon used to let her play with his pocket watch; a simple twist that seemed to bring a whole complex system into motion - a system that wouldn't stop until it had expended all of its energy.

"How does he do that?" she grumbled, hoping that her eyes hadn't started glowing.

"Hmm?" Solomon asked curiously.

"Oh, nothing," she answered, all innocence.

They walked together to the front door, and entered the elevator.

They stood, shoulder to shoulder during the ascent, Diva watching his nonchalantly wandering gaze, disappointedly wondering why he wasn't kissing her now.

In that instant she made her decision. She hadn't been dead set on it before, but she sure as hell was now.

_It's happening tonight, _she resolved, as they stepped off the elevator, and approached a nearby door.

The front living room was almost absurdly plain, a few bits of minimalist, but no doubt very expensive furniture placed here and there. But for the most part, it really looked like a home that was only half-moved apartment itself didn't seem to be anything special either, except for the fabulous view of the city, offered by a large window opposite them.

Solomon noticed her admiring it. "Enjoy it while you can; you can barely see through the smog during the day. So, shall I give you the grand tour?" he offered, suave and patronizing

"Where's the bedroom?" she asked brazenly.

Solomon's brows shot up, even though he wasn't really surprised.

_Diva will be Diva._

He'd taken her into his arms before he'd finished the thought, and fought the compelling urge to begin the implied activities, before another second passed.

Instead, the words just came out.

"We don't _have to_," he said, sounding almost as if he really meant it.

"I know," she responded tersely, as if answering an absurdly stupid question. "I want to."

He smiled, recalling what she'd said a few weeks ago.

_When I do _ do it, _I want it to be out of love, or at least rabid horniness. _

"Love or rabid horniness?" he asked.

She gave him a grin, somehow silly and sultry at the same time. "Why not both?"

They stepped into the bedroom, and Diva briefly surveyed the room.

"Hmm. There's barely any furniture in this place, but you have a fully-dressed bed even though you don't sleep," Diva snickered. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were _expecting _to get laid."

His smile said it all, though he did add, "You deserve better than the floor."

"For the first time, at least," she said with a shrug, striding toward the bed, and finding herself in his arms before she'd reached it.

This time, it wasn't a simple, impulsive smooch. This kiss was clearly goal-oriented. It had a clear intention of seduction, each languid gulp, each swirl of tongue enriching the mixture of romantic and erotic.

"God, I love kissing you," he whispered along with a stolen breath.

"Then shut up and do it again," she commanded, giggling.

And he eagerly obeyed.

She flicked off the blinding fluorescent light as he began to devour her neck, leaving the room still relatively well illuminated by the distant shining of the city lights below, bathing the room in a soft, amber glow, like a fire that didn't flicker.

Diva seemed to be in a bit of a hurry to get his clothes off, attempting to remove his shirt before he was all the way out of his blazer, briefly resulting in a tangled mess of limbs and linen.

Removing her clothes was all too easy, pulling off her tank top and then expertly doing away with the drab cotton that passed for her lingerie, all while she helpfully kicked off her shoes, pants and panties.

Solomon had seen her naked more times than he could recall, but he still felt it entirely necessary to gaze at her for a few seconds, as if to make sure that every flawless curve was still as it had been a century ago. Somehow, in his perception, Diva was slightly more voluptuous than Saya, but that may have only been because Diva had always struck him as the more feminine of the twins.

Diva was enjoying her view just as much, if not more. She took her sweet time in looking him over, and was so captivated by what she saw, that she felt compelled to walk a complete circle around him, so as to survey his beauty from every angle.

He was a little skinnier than she'd imagined, most likely because he generally wore several layers of clothing. But with his suit now discarded, she could see could see his body for what it really was: eternally that of a slightly underfed and overworked soldier - rather slender, but pleasantly well muscled, considering. And as it happened, that was precisely in line with her personal tastes.

At the same time, with his suit discarded, his slender frame, mussed hair and somewhat effeminate facial features, he somehow took on a slightly boyish appearance. She'd never imagined that his suits had so much to do with his image, and began to think that she'd been wrong when she'd said that no change of clothes could make him look like a teenager - but apparently when he was entirely without clothes - that was another story.

Their eyes met upon her return from the circumnavigation of his body, her eyes now blazing with blue flame.

"I'm actually a little bit nervous," Diva murmured.

"You know, I think I might be too," he replied, tone belying his statement. He took her hand and placed a gentle kiss on the back of her palm, as he had so many times before.

But in a move that struck her as classically French, he began a procession of kisses all the way up her arm.

"_I've always wanted to do this,_" his voice echoed in her head.

He continued on, over the ticklish pit of her elbow, up to the increasingly sensitive skin of her shoulder and neck. She let out a quavering sigh as he paused to lap sensuously at her pulse point, and then proceeded to snack on her earlobe, hot breath in her ear seeming to diffuse into her bloodstream in the form tiny, tingling bubbles that rose to the surface of her skin, as goosebumps.

Even so, she found her heart racing at the idea that his lips and hers would soon be reunited. And when they finally were, the kiss was rather different than before, displaying the ravenous passion she hadn't had from him since that night after the masquerade, just before they'd been interrupted, deliciously invasive, as if it were a metaphorical representation of what they both knew would have to happen soon.

Suckling at his tongue, she found herself stealing glimpses of his face, and she was surprised to find that his eyes weren't closed either. But she could tell that he didn't really see her, lids slightly parted to reveal a sliver of white. Lulled in pleasure, or delirious with all consuming need - she couldn't tell. She just knew that she liked seeing that look on the ordinarily sanguine face.

Some unknown interval of time later, he leaned away, staring at her, and she watched intently as his eyes finally came alight, like a green bud blooming into a red flower.

Paradoxically, it made her think of the other eyes she's seen in this context. She thought of Riku's eyes, glowing like a candle in the dark, illuminating his small dim face with a ghostly pale light, that made him look like he was dead already. And then she remembered the other one. She hadn't really thought about him during the past few weeks. It wasn't that she was just remembering it for the first time, more like carefully reading a passage that had only been skimmed over previously.

Solomon seemed to perceive the hesitation in her face.

"Having second thoughts?" he asked in a breathy whisper, lovingly tracing the edge of her jawline with his fingertip, smiling that soft smile, the one that once had the ability to soothe a murderous tantrum.

"No," she reassured him. "Just - remembering - the last time I did this was - under pretty different circumstances."

"Same for me."

She intuitively knew exactly what he was referring to.

Diva actually hadn't thought of that, the possibility that he'd had no other lover since Saya. Diva knew Solomon pretty well, and she remembered that in the distant past, he'd often come to see her, subtly smelling of the intimate odors of various unfamiliar women. And she'd assumed that his habit of indifferent womanizing had continued up until relatively recently.

There was something a profoundly awkward in the notion that there'd been no one between she and her sister. Without thinking, she examined his scent, to see if she could still smell Saya on him.

And she breathed a sigh of relief when she confirmed that it had long since passed. All she caught was the piquant scent of cologne and bath products, and his own unique, olfactory signature, a je ne se quois of daffodil dew and frosty open fields.

Realizing that Solomon must have been mulling over some rather sour recollections himself, Diva's face formed into the same poignant expression, pity and empathy - the same expression that had so upset him a few weeks earlier.

But for some reason, it didn't seem so bad, at a moment like this.

She backed away a few paces, and sat on the edge of the bed, beckoning gaze drawing him to her immediately.

The anticipation was damn near killing him. Being so close to this body he'd seen so often, for so many years, he'd felt he knew it well. But now, the promise of learning the hidden secrets of a familiar entity - like walking on the dark side of the moon. A primal need reinforced by insistent curiosity.

Her face had a look akin to inquisitive anticipation as he crawled over her and positioned himself between her legs.

All of a sudden, she burst out laughing.

"What?" Solomon asked, even though he already had a pretty good idea as to what she was recalling.

She could barely hold back her giggling enough to speak coherently, "I was just remembering, that night, when you tried to - holy shit, that was hilarious!" the giggle lowered into a snide snicker.

Solomon realized that he was chuckling right along with her. It was one of the more disappointing moments of his life, but somehow, now that the deficit was about to be redressed, it was rather amusing to him as well. At the same time, he wasn't about to let things get derailed just because of an amusing recollection.

"Are you sure you want to?" he asked. It was to bring her attention back to the situation at hand, more than it was an act of gentlemanliness.

"Yes," she said, still snickering a little. "I promise I won't kick you in the crotch this time."

He leaned closer, and the last vestiges of humor seemed to drain out of her system, distracted by the way he was looking at her as he moved into position, stare even more penetrating than the imminent results of his slowly advancing hips.

Her mouth opened, yielding a breathless silence that seemed at least as powerful as any moan. Senses slightly confused by the flood of hot sensation, the sound of that first silent cry of pleasure existed only in the mind, like the swish of a shooting star.

To her surprise, it actually hurt a little bit; after all, it had been years since her last. But it wasn't the savage sting of impalement, more like a stopper inserted into a gushing wound. Discomfort made meaningless by expected benefit.

Unable to help himself, he pressed his lips onto her still open mouth, continuing the ravenous kiss, pressure coming in surges as he began to move, swaying at the pace of a meditative breath.

Now that it was actually happening, she was amazed at how un-frightened she felt. In the distant past, she'd generally been subject to a fear of sex, based on primal instinct and psychological trauma. Even when she'd seduced the innocent, defenseless Riku, she'd maintained the superior position all throughout, having no intention of being _trapped_ between a body and the floor, and it had been the same with the other equally harmless partner.

But now, locked in the most intimate of embraces, and not in the position of ostensible control, she felt as if she should have been terrified. Why was it that Solomon, the one who had once betrayed, abandoned and tried to kill her, was the only to be allowed that position of trust?

It wasn't really that she trusted _him_ completely. She just trusted the _moment _completely. She had mysterious but absolute faith that nothing bad could come of the logical result of a romance that had begun over a century ago, with _this_ man. Flawed as he was, if anyone was her soulmate, it was him.

But as she perceived the tender, desperate need in his face, in every kiss, in every movement, it struck her that of the two of them, _she _was not the helpless one.

And she rather liked that. This powertrip had remarkable appeal to a girl who had spent most of her life with absolutely no power at all, even over her own impulses. Even when her chevaliers seemed as if they were blindly obeying her, she knew they all answered to Amshel, that Amshel would have his say in the end. But she was now keenly aware that the omnipresent sadistic god of her past, was dead. And now Solomon truly belonged to her, and more importantly, she truly belonged to herself.

The deep, inner caress was naturally at the forefront of her sensorium, but she was distantly aware of how it mingled with every other sensation she was feeling. It made her think of singing with an orchestra. As if the exquisitely intense feeling between her legs as her own highlighted solo, the peripheral sensations, both physical and sentimental, the orchestra that set the framework to bring out the true beauty of the song. She'd always known that her voice, by itself, was glorious, but when it met the myriad of complementary sounds, it truly took flight, a synergistic firebird of beauty.

And so she decided it must be with sex. It could be pretty nice in of itself, but when it was combined with erotic skill and emotional chemistry, it became indescribably amazing.

Naturally, there wasn't all that much in terms of conscious thought going on in Solomon's head. Between the ever-intensifying vibration of nerves and the distant appreciation of the passion of this moment, he was rather distracted.

Stunningly, it never even occurred to him to compare this to his last, Diva to Saya. Even though they were twins, more-or-less physically identical, the experience itself was so different as to warrant no comparison. In the future, somewhere in the vicinity of his dozenth _encounter _with Diva, it occurred to him that during the _Special Night_ he'd had with Saya, his partner hadn't been much more than an extremely eroticized zombie throughout the proceedings, mindlessly grasping for climax and conception; and he himself had been focused almost entirely on pleasing her enough to warrant leaving her fiance.

But now... It was amazing what a difference it made to have his partner spiritually present in both the moment, the act, and the sentimental underpinnings of it all. To not feel the pervasive anxiety of knowing this was his last chance to snatch a heart already firmly in the grasp of another man. In its place was the security of mutual affection, which allowed for full enjoyment of the lovemaking itself.

Like gears moving in tandem, the vacillation of their unified being increased, picking up more momentum by the second, the rapturous ache of building sensuous pressure growing evermore exquisite, hot breath escaping from the gasket of their still-fused mouths.

Consistent with idealized expectations for such an emotionally salient session of lovemaking, they both reached the peak almost simultaneously, base of the spine turning to a lightning rod of overwhelming sensation, spreading throughout the body in the form of an internal earthquake. Lips still touching, but parted to release the beautiful, but all too brief vocal duet of climax.

* * *

They lay together, holding each other loosely but determinedly, legs intertwined in a tangled braid. It had been a good half hour of silence, but for some reason, it was in no way awkward.

"Diva?" he eventually murmured into her hair.

"Hm?"

"Let's stay like this forever."

Somehow, he could tell that her lips had tightened into a smile. "Sure. As long as you're not an asshole to me."

"I mean - we should stay exactly like this. Never move from this exact spot, just lay here, just like this. Naked. Together. Never worry about anything else." He sighed. "I can't stand the idea that this moment has to end."

Her head tilted back, face displaying her usual pensive frown. "In that case, no. Not possible."

"Is that so?"

"Yup. Because in a few more minutes, I'm going to want to do it again," she stated, with a curt slap to his ass.

Solomon smirked as silence returned for several minutes.

"Solomon?"

"Hm?"

"Do you know why we're perfect for eachother?"

"Because we fit together so marvelously?" he returned cheekily.

"Other than that," she said, surprisingly serious.

"Because we're actually having a civil conversation afterwards?"

"Other than that too."

He smiled. "You tell me."

There was a short, increasingly tense pause.

"Because we're both evil."

That word knocked the breath out of him for a moment. "I don't think that's true. Or at least it's oversimplifying things."

"But what if evil is as evil does?" she said somberly. "And we've both done evil, no matter how you look at it."

"Perhaps that's true for me," Solomon conceded, tone like that ordinarily used with a half-indifferent _oh well_. "I've done many things that I knew were wrong, even as I did them. I was raised by decent, moral people, whatever happened to me afterwards. But you - you didn't know any better."

"I know, but my body count is probably higher, so I think it evens out, between the two of us."

"Hmm," he acknowledged calmly.

A long pause, before Diva spoke, staring at the ceiling. "That's exactly what I mean. You're not horrified by what I just said. And what you said too, about how saying that we're evil is oversimplifying it. Even if we're not literally evil, we both know what evil looks like from the inside. You understand where I'm coming from. I don't have to explain why I did the things I did. I don't have to explain what Amshel was like. I don't need to explain what _I _was like. I get the feeling that no one else could ever get me, half as well as you do."

She finally looked at him. "What's more, we deserve each other."

The slightest hint of hurt crept into his features. The statement stung more than he could have expected, the idea that she was only with him because she felt she deserved no better. It didn't seem that different from women who only loved him for his money or position. It was a blow to the ego and to the heart.

He couldn't quite tell if Diva perceived his hurt feelings, and she spoke again. "It's really extremely lucky that I happen to like you so much."

Solomon smiled, realizing that there wasn't much else she could have said that would have been more reassuring. "Now that I think about it, in terms of a relationship, _liking _just as important as _loving._ Love can be blind, irrational and stupid, but _Like_ - that's really something special. "

"Mmm."

She was quiet for a long moment, so much so that he assumed she'd gone back to sleep. Until she spoke, strangely abrupt, and slightly audacious..

"I slept with James, while I was pregnant."

He shot up in bed, reaction as involuntary as recoiling hand from flame.

"What?"

It wasn't the condescending, _how dare you_ sort of _what_. It was the question of someone who was really unsure whether they'd heard something right.

"You heard what I said!" she snapped, irritated but not surprised by his reaction. "You pathetic hypocrite! You've slept with god knows how many women and I haven't given you any shit about it; and then I tell you that I slept with one guy you didn't know about, and you totally flip out!"

Solomon was scrambling through his own mind, trying to find something to say, some explanation of his feelings that was a little more dignified than simple alpha-male caveman jealousy. He'd never really felt that affronted by Diva's union with Riku. After all, that had been based on necessity, and more importantly, he had a pretty strong feeling that dying was the most memorable thing the scrawny virgin did during that sexual encounter. But James - he'd never known James to be a ladies man, but still... he was a well-built man, not to mention certain racial stereotypes that he couldn't quite disregard.

And at the same time, he was fully aware that he was being ridiculous.

"But - why James?" he finally managed, no particular tone of anger, simply bewildered curiosity.

Diva fell back in bed, sighing. "Because I trusted him. James may have been about as interesting as a bowl of ice water, but he was loyal, and I knew he'd never hurt me." She paused. "And frankly, because he was in the right place at the right time. I was lonely and bored and thinking about how I wished I could have made Riku mine, and wondering if it would feel as good..."

"Well," Solomon began awkwardly, "as you know, James and I didn't exactly get along."

She sighed again. "If you must know, it wasn't one tenth as fun as I'd expected it to be, so it only happened once. Poor thing was paralyzed with shock." She looked at Solomon and groaned. "And if it makes you feel any better, it probably would have been you if you'd been around. But by then I think you were already spending most of your time stalking Saya, at least in your mind." Her tone actually wasn't bitter, just vaguely grumpy.

That was somewhat gratifying to hear - that it hadn't been a _crime _of passion, just a _crime _of opportunity. That and the implication that he would have been her first choice. It was enough to drain some steam from his shock. While his mind was still full of questions that he knew better than to ask, he supposed he'd best at least pretend to let go of the petty, retroactive jealousy.

Diva suddenly started giggling. "You slept with my arch-rival, and I slept with yours." The laugh trailed off, and then transformed to a simple, smug grin. "and _I _slept with your enemy _looong _before you even caught sight of first base with mine!"

Without quite understanding why, he let out a self-effacing chuckle at the remark, conceding this odd victory to her.

Silence settled back in, as Solomon leaned back against his pillow. But before he had a chance to pull her close again, Diva appeared, hovering over him on all fours, with a smile that reminded him of their conversation about evil.

"What?" he asked, grinning.

The evil smile widened. "Time's up."

* * *

The fingers of morning sunlight fell through the window, glinting off the fresh spray of sweat coating the two naked bodies. They'd both been awake for a good half hour, but apparently hadn't been idle.

A fluffy, pale-gray cat sprang up onto the bed.

"Oh, I forgot to introduce you to Sheba."

Diva pet the cat delightedly. "She's not afraid of me."

"Of course not. She's used to being around Chiropterans."

Once she'd tired of stroking the cat, Diva hopped up out of bed. "I'm going to take a shower; I'm all icky," she announced.

Solomon smiled wickedly. "Ah. I'll join you then."

"No!" she stated. "You'll just get me all icky again."

"Nonsense, I'll behave myself. At this point, I'm not entirely sure I have it in me anyway."

"I said NO!" she snapped, with a fierce glare.

Solomon sat back down on the bed.

"Besides," Diva added, a little less forceful, "I just need a quick rinse-off, I'll be out in five minutes."

As promised, Diva emerged from the shower a few minutes later, finding Solomon still relaxing in bed. She sat next to him.

He shifted, apparently reaching back under the pillow, and retracting a closed fist.

"Hmm? What could this be?" he asked, obviously full of shit.

Diva peered over at the object in his hand.

A gold ring with a bright blue gem in a rose-like setting.

"I overheard you admiring Saya's so I had a copy made."

She rolled the trinket around in her hand, not putting it on. "How did you manage that?"

"She let me borrow the original."

Diva snorted. "That must have been an awkward conversation."

Solomon gave a wry smile. "You have _nooo _idea."

Diva's eyes narrowed, along with her usual pensive frown. "What kind of ring is it?"

"You mean, what type of gem?"

"Not what I meant; it's pretty obviously a sapphire."

Solomon grinned mischievously.

Diva glared. "Please tell me it's a sapphire."

"It's a sapphire," he returned obediently.

"You're lying, you turd!"

"Just saying what you told me to say. But if you must know, it's a diamond."

Diva just looked irritated. "You want me to go around wearing an effing blue diamond? That's a little much, even in this snooty neighborhood!"

"It's not the first one I've bought for you. And besides, you can always tell them it's a sapphire, or made of glass." He chuckled. "Hell, tell them it came out of a Crackerjack box, for all I care."

"What the hell is a Crackerjack?"

He chuckled again. "Nothing important."

Diva looked pensive again. "Well, I wasn't asking about the jewel anyway. I want to know what it's for."

Solomon grinned, knowing perfectly well what she was really asking. "Well, traditionally rings are used to decorate the finger."

Diva rolled her eyes. "I mean, what's it _for_?"

He was still smiling. "It's whatever kind of ring you want it to be. It doesn't_ have to _be an engagement ring yet, but eventually..."

She smiled gratefully. "Thank you," she said, wondering if that uncharacteristic display of patience came from truly understanding and respecting her desires, or if he might have actually learned something from his overzealous, and ultimately unsuccessful attempts to woo Saya.

Diva's tone turned sassy. "Because if you think I'm going to marry you straight out of high school, you'd better think again. This isn't the nineteen fifties. I'm not walking down any aisle until I'm done with college AND I'm a thousand percent sure that you're not going to be a bastard to me again."

"You really are going to make sure I don't forget about that, aren't you?" he chuckled light-heartedly. "What percentage am I at now?"

She pursed her lips, once again making her thoughtful frown. "I'd say around 50/50."

"Out of a thousand?" he asked mockingly.

"Shut up," she demanded, whacking him with a pillow and then laying back in bed.

Peaceful silence took hold again as she scooted closer to him, placing her cheek against the thin, almost translucent fuzz on his chest.

And then all of a sudden, the frown was back.

"What time is it?"

Solomon reached for his phone, checking the display. "Just about eight o'clock."

"And it's Monday," she murmured, her voice suddenly escalating into an outright shriek. "SCHOOL!"

Solomon chuckled. "Relax, I'm sure no one will mind if you're a little late."

"Think again!" she barked. "I already have seven tardies in first period! I'll get dropped from the class if I get another one!"

Solomon mentally assessed the situation.

_Dropped from class = possible delayed graduation = longer to wait to make her fully mine._

* * *

Max tapped her pencil against her desk restlessly, as the teacher read the attendance list. Being the best friend of someone like Diva, perpetually scatterbrained and occasionally strangely clueless as to how schools operated, meant keeping track of her attendance as well. And Max knew that Diva was one cut away from being dropped.

"C'mon, c'mon..." she whispered through her teeth.

"Diva Otonashi," the teacher intoned. "Diva Otonashi?" he repeated, now more questioningly, as if to say _going once, going twice..._

Just then, the door flew open, slamming against the wall. The classroom was overtaken with an inexplicable breeze, and the doorway filled with the image of a relatively unruffled Diva, or at least unruffled in attitude. Her hair was quite a different story. It didn't look so much like she'd just rolled out of bed and into her clothes, so much as that she'd been attacked by a flock of rogue hair dryers.

The teacher just rolled his eyes, and made the appropriate mark on his records.

Max looked her friend over quizzically, and immediately typed a message with her computer.

Diva strolled across the classroom and to her desk, sat, and pulled her school computer out of her pack.

As soon as the device was fired up, a message from Max was waiting for her, dated only seconds ago.

"Looks like you've been for a ride in a convertible this morning ; ) I guess that means that he came to see you after all, and considering that he drove you to school, I guess it's safe to assume what happened ; )"

"How'd you guess?"

"He emailed me two days ago, asking if I thought you'd want to see him. I told him that you probably did, but that I couldn't guarantee that you wouldn't kick the living shit out of him anyway. I've been _DYING_ for the past 24 hours, having to keep that a secret."

Diva suppressed a giggle, and responded, looking innocently at the teacher, as if she were just taking notes, like a good girl.

"Well, he didn't drive me here. We used other means of transportation," she typed cryptically.

Their attention was seized by the sudden exclamation of a classmate, pointing out the window, "What the hell is that?"

Before the teacher could protest, the entire class had left their seats and gathered beside the window.

"It looks like a shooting star," one commented.

"It's the middle of the day," another said.

"Maybe some weird sort of lightning?" yet another added. "At least it looks like it's headed away from us."

Diva made no response, save a tiny smile, and a discrete wave at the disappearing streak of light.

* * *

Didn't I say it was corny? Eh, a little fan-service never hurt anyone :)

There'll eventually be one more epilogue-ish chapter.

And pleeeeease take a moment to review!


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